Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
My heart aches at the possibility that anything could happen to him.
A thought brings my mind back full circle to McKenna and her prejudiced words. Just because my sister is a bitch doesn’t make her completely wrong to worry. Coop does lead a dangerous life, or rather a life that lends itself to danger lurking in every corner, and that worries me.
More for Coop than myself, but after last night and this morning, I can’t deny myself this man. I can’t deny either of us giving in to the chemistry, the lust, the feelings that seem to burst to the surface whenever we’re together.
It’s undeniable. It’s irresistible.
I love him, and I won’t deprive myself of this feeling, this experience, no matter how it ends.
Coop is mine, and I am his.
McKenna’s opinion doesn’t matter to me. Fuck her. She can tell Daddy all she wants because I can live off my trust fund until I’m out of medical school if I have to.
I grab my phone out of my purse and check the messages. Nothing. He’s probably busy at work already.
I confirm an appointment with my therapist for tomorrow and get ready for the rest of the day. Coop is busy, and Ruby is probably at work, so I’ll just settle at my desk to get ahead on next week’s reading.
A double major is a bitch of a workload, but my grades are in the top one percent, and I have no plans to change that. Not even for love. This is my path, medical school, and Coop. I’ll find a way to make them both work in my life.
A quick rap on my door interrupts my reading on administering personality tests, and I sigh, almost grateful for the reprieve. “What is it?”
The door opens, and it’s no surprise to see McKenna standing there with a sheepish expression on her face.
“What are you up to?”
“Catching up on reading for next week. What’s up, Kenna? Here to bitch at me some more?”
I didn’t mean to sound so exhausted by my sister, but that’s how I feel after each of our interactions over the past year.
“No. I came to see if you want to grab brunch. My treat. We can talk instead of fight?”
She’s trying, that’s what I tell myself each and every time, yet it still fails. But something feels different today, so I glance at my reading and then back at my sister’s hopeful face. Decision made, I stand and shrug.
“Sure, why not. Let’s go to Mimosa.”
Since my car won’t be ready until tomorrow, Kenna drives, mostly in silence as if she also has a lot on her mind.
Mimosa is a cute little bistro-style restaurant serving brunch all day. That makes it the perfect eatery for a college town where most of the population gets up too late to eat breakfast, preferring to drink with every meal.
McKenna is quiet until we follow the hostess to a table right beside a giant open window. It shields us from the sun but provides a perfectly warm breeze.
We spread our napkins on our laps, and Kenna breaks the ice. “You’ll really stop talking to me if I tell Dad about your biker boyfriend?”
“I will,” I answer, wondering what she’s up to. “It’s not your business at all, Kenna, and after he tried to set me up with Petey the Perv, he has no leg to stand on as far as I’m concerned.” Daddy still hasn’t apologized for that debacle, and I don’t expect he will, ever.
“You’re not worried he’ll kick you out of the house?”
“No, and you shouldn’t be either. I have my trust fund, and Daddy has no say over it, so if I have to get my own place, I will.”
I shake my head at the thought of living my life the way Kenna does, constantly in fear of disappointing our parents. “He doesn’t get to dictate my life, not with his shady friends, screwed-up marriage, and sketchy business practices.”
Our talk is put on pause when the pretty waitress, who’s also probably an actress, comes to take our order.
Kenna glances at the menu and says, “We’ll have a mini quiche and breakfast taco platter for two on special today.”
“That sounds great,” I moan. “With bottomless mimosas?”
“Always,” she answers with a wide smile.
“Sounds good to me,” I say, then frown when my sister looks across the room and has sudden downturned lips and a look of bewilderment on her face. “Kenna? What’s up?”
She blinks and then shakes off whatever has spooked her. “Nothing. I thought I saw someone I knew but not in this neighborhood. Definitely not.” The last words were more for her benefit than mine, so I give the waitress a nod of approval, and she saunters off to place our order.
“Have you talked to Mom lately?” Kenna asks quickly in a lame attempt to get our conversation back on track.