Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Maybe he was keeping it in storage until he was finished fixing up the place?
“Got a bed,” he uttered, pushing the door shut after the boys stepped inside. “Plus a trunk to keep my clothes in.”
“Just a bed and a trunk? You don’t have anything else?”
How can he not have furniture? That’s crazy.
“Haven’t found anything I liked yet,” he replied, but something in his voice told me that wasn’t true. And when his eyes drifted and I watched him glance around the room, looking both frustrated and disappointed with the house he called a home, I knew he wasn’t being picky about furniture.
I decided to change the subject before the mood ruined this surprise.
“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starving,” I said, looking at my brothers, who were both nodding in agreement.
We ate in the middle of the room, pizza first, my brothers each devouring three slices and Sean putting away an easy four. I ate two slices of the half ham and pineapple, the other half plain cheese for Eli, then slid the box of donuts in front of me and threw open the lid.
My brothers both nabbed a donut, Dominic’s choice being peanut butter glaze with chocolate drizzle, and Eli choosing chocolate on chocolate. I settled on the maple bacon glaze, then gestured at the box, asking Sean, “You want one?”
He shook his head and pulled another slice of green pepper and onion out of the box.
“Wow,” I commented. Five slices was impressive.
“Been workin’ for hours,” he explained, chewing up his bite. “I was about to make a sandwich when you showed up.”
“You eat a lot of sandwiches, man,” Dominic said.
I looked to Sean, not knowing this about him.
He shrugged. “Sandwiches are cheap. I like cheap.”
“I like pizza,” Eli replied, chocolate drizzle coating his lips. “And d-donuts.”
“Me too,” I agreed.
“Same,” Dominic added.
Sean folded his pizza in half and took another bite.
He had put on a shirt before we ate, which sucked, in my opinion, but his feet were still bare, and I could not even begin to explain why that was sexy. It just was.
After Dominic and Eli ate their donuts, they asked Sean if they could go out back, leaving the two of us alone.
As the door closed, I sucked glaze off my fingertips and collapsed onto my back, holding my lower stomach. “I have a pizza baby,” I said. “He’s going to be beautiful. I just know it.”
Sean side-eyed me, smirked, then took another bite.
He smirked at me a lot. He smiled at me a little. I liked both.
“Want to play a game?” I asked.
“Nope.”
That cracked me up. “You don’t even know which game I’m going to suggest,” I said, laughing.
“Doesn’t matter. I wanna eat.”
“You can eat and play it. It’s a talking game.”
He looked over at me, swallowed his bite, and waited.
“We just take turns telling something about ourselves.”
“Hell, no.”
“What? Come on.”
“Nope.” He bit into the pizza, reaching crust.
I could’ve taken his answer and left well enough alone, but…no. I really didn’t want to do that. Not at all. I wanted to know him. I wanted to know more.
Tori, Syd, and Kali all liked to joke about how Sean looked like he’d been in and out of prison. He definitely had that hard, unapproachable, don’t-ask-questions look about him, and if it was true, I needed him to know it wouldn’t matter. Not to me. Not when I knew deep down the kind of person he was. So, instead of moving on and changing subjects, I didn’t.
I had the ammo. And I was using it.
“You paid for my tacos,” I said, pushing up to my hip.
Sean quit chewing and looked over at me.
“You were a stranger who paid for my food,” I continued. “Which was a good thing. Then you helped me with my brothers when I didn’t even ask for it, which was another good thing. So, it doesn’t matter what you tell me, Sean, because I already know the kind of person you are. What I don’t know are facts, aside from you being a cook who’s fixing up his house, who drives a kick-ass looking Harley, who works hard doing his job and is great at it—I’ve tried your food—and who works hard at everything, I’m guessing, considering the appetite you’ve worked up. I want to know facts. I want to know more.”
“You don’t know shit,” he mumbled.
“Exactly. That’s why I want you play this game.”
He shook his head and tossed the crust into the box. “You gotta go. I got work to do,” he said, getting to his feet.
I got to my feet then too, stood in front of him, and tipped my chin up. “No,” I snapped.
“No?”
“I’m not leaving until you tell me more. You’re my friend. Friends know things about each other.”
“I ain’t your friend.”
Hearing that, I flinched.