Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 121578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
“Hey, do you need directions?” a soft voice purrs.
I glance down and find a girl wearing what looks like a fuzzy, sleeveless, peach-colored onesie, flip-flops, and way too much self-tanner, twirling a piece of crunchy-looking blonde hair around one finger.
“I’m Mila.” She thrusts a hand tipped with shimmery peach three-inch claws at me.
Not interested in getting stabbed by her knife-shaped talons, I jam my hands in my pockets. “I’m fine. Waiting for my sister.”
Her gaze flicks over me like she’s assessing whether I’m a bad decision she wants to make this afternoon. “Who’s your sister?”
Aren’t you a nosy little tramp?
I’m about to tell her to fuck off when Jezzie crashes through the door, bumping into me.
“All right, let’s go.” She stops cold, eyes narrowing. “Hey, Mila,” she says, her voice dripping with irritation.
Mila flashes a half smile, half sneer at my sister.
I don’t have time for this shit.
“Later.” I nod to the girl and rest my hand on Jezzie’s back, steering her around the girl and onto the sidewalk. “Which way?”
She casts a glare over her shoulder. “Why were you talking to her?” Jezzie whispers.
“Uh, she started talking to me. What’d you want me to do, backhand her?”
“Yeah, kinda.” Jezzie giggles, then threads her arm through mine, leading me to the left. “It’s this way.” She glances over her shoulder again. “I can’t believe you have a sweet, decent woman like Margot at home and I caught you talking to that deep-fried witch.”
I stop walking, jerking her to a stop.
She turns to face me. “What?”
“You need to chill the fuck out. I wasn’t trying to pick her up. Christ, Jezzie. You got that low an opinion of me?”
Her tough-girl expression wobbles. “Well, I told you, I like Margot.”
“Yeah,” I answer slowly. “So do I.” I wave one hand in the air. “I still have to, you know, talk to other human beings sometimes. Doesn’t mean I want to fuck ‘em.”
“Well, she probably wanted to fuck you. She has a boyfriend back home but brings a different guy to her apartment every weekend.” She squeezes her eyes shut and gags. “Her bedroom’s right above mine.”
Shaking my head, I squeeze my eyes shut and count back from five. “I’m sorry to hear that,” I say, using the most patient tone I’ve got. “You want to look for a different place?”
“What? No. I just don’t want—”
I hold up a hand to stop her. “Even if I wasn’t with Margot, I’m not interested in banging girls my sister’s age. Thanks. I’m good. Can we go now?”
She glances at my road captain patch. “She’s probably going to pester me for an invite to your clubhouse now. She’d fit in well with all the—”
“All right. Enough.” I skewer her with my big brother glare. “I came to spend time with you, not argue about stupid shit.”
She lifts her shoulders and drops her gaze to the sidewalk. “Sorry.”
“What?” I cup one hand over my ear.
“Shut up.” She smacks my arm. “You heard me.”
“No, I didn’t. It sounded like—”
“I’m sorry!” she shouts.
I blink up at the sky. “Am I dead? Hallucinating?”
“Oh…my…God,” she spits out between giggles. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You’re ridiculous,” I mimic, walking ahead of her. “Let’s go. I told you I’m hungry.”
She hurries to catch up with me, looping her arm through mine again. We cross a small, one-way street and continue along the sidewalk until she stops at a narrow storefront with a red awning hanging over a few sets of tables and chairs set up on the uneven sidewalk in front of a tall, plateglass window.
“This is it.” She grins at me as if we’re about to step into a fine dining establishment.
I glance up at the red, white, and black sign announcing Luigi’s Slice in red script. “Luigi’s slice of what?” I ask.
“Stop it,” she scolds. “Be nice.”
I grab the door and hold it open for her. A wave of oregano-scented heat rolls over me. “You’re going to sweat to death working here in the summer,” I warn her.
“They have A/C.”
Sure they do.
“J-bird.” A girl who looks like she spent her high school years perched on top of the cheer pyramid calls out to Jezzie from behind the counter. She hurries over, her long, light-brown ponytail swishing down her back, and locks her arms around my sister in that bouncy, overexcited way that screams cheerleader energy.
J-bird?
Jezzie’s not quite as enthusiastic but she accepts the hug. Laughing, she pulls back and grabs my hand. “I brought my brother. He wants to check out the place.”
I scowl at her. How am I supposed to check it out if she announces that’s why I’m here?
“Jensen, this is my friend, Erin.” She stresses friend like she wants to make sure I remember my manners. “Erin, this is my big brother.”
“Goodness.” Erin’s gaze travels up to my face. “You are tall.” She flashes a blindingly white smile. “I’m so happy to finally meet you. J-bird talks about you all the time.”