Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 129986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
I shrug. “I’m not her fucking shrink, Anae. I don’t know which obstacle is the biggest. I’m just saying both issues have presented a problem.”
She doesn’t hide her skepticism.
She waits for me to say something else since this is as close to getting me on the ropes as she’s been before.
I don’t.
“All right,” she says after a minute of hard-eyed mutual silence. “Well, why don’t we give it another week? Obviously, I don’t want to ask you to devote all your time to this, but if you can’t get your dick in her by this time next weekend, we’ll regroup and make a different plan.”
I see letting it go isn’t even on the table, so I shrug and turn toward the pool. “Whatever. Another week is fine with me.”
I tug off my shirt and empty my pockets before diving into the pool with Scofield.
We do a few laps so I can show him up, and when he admits I’m faster, I smirk and look around for Anae. I don’t see her over by her friends or by the side of the pool with her legs in the water where she usually is.
“Hey,” I call out to Mallory.
She looks up from her phone. “Yeah?”
“Where’d Anae go?”
“She had to pee.”
“Hey, I want a rematch,” Scofield says, swimming up beside me and grabbing onto the edge of the pool. “Best two out of three?”
“You’re on.”
Chapter sixteen
Aubrey
After a great night’s sleep, Mom and I have breakfast and go for a walk. When we get home, I spot a vase full of flowers on the doorstep that must have been delivered while we were out.
Mom’s not feeling well enough today to walk the whole way, so she’s in her wheelchair by the time we return home. We don’t have a wheelchair ramp, so I roll her into the garage and see if she needs help up the steps.
Once she’s safely inside with a nice cold glass of water, I come back out to grab the bouquet of white roses.
There’s a card that says, “Sorry for your loss,” but no other message, and it isn’t signed.
“Who are they from?” Mom asks as I bring them inside the house.
I pocket the card and take the flowers over to the counter. “I’m not sure. Doesn’t say.”
If not for that weird card, I might have thought they were from Dare. I’m not sure he’s a guy who sends flowers, but I don’t really know what the alternative could be, either.
Dare.
I haven’t talked to him since last night.
It’s hard to believe last night even happened. I got so caught up, but I can’t believe I sent him that picture.
Or took that call.
God, in the light of day, it’s so embarrassing.
But last night… last night, it was so hot.
It’s probably a flimsy excuse because I’m sure the flowers aren’t from him, but when Mom goes in to take a nap, I plop down on my bed—the scene of the crime—and open the text chain between me and Dare.
Since we finished on the phone, the last text between us is the picture I sent him.
I feel flushed looking at it, so I delete it from the text chain before I type a message. “You didn’t by chance send flowers to my house today, did you?”
“Flowers?”
“White roses,” I specify just in case this is a playful bit.
“Did they say they were from me?”
“No, they didn’t say who they were from. Obviously it wasn’t you because you don’t know what I’m talking about, so never mind, lol. Maybe one of the nurses sent flowers to Mom and they put the wrong card in or something. I just thought I would ask.”
“I bet. Any excuse to text me,” he sends back with a wink.
Despite myself, I smile like an idiot, sinking back into the pillows. “No.”
“Yes.”
“You’re too perceptive, has anyone ever told you that?” I ask, not bothering to deny it any further.
I can sense him smirking on the other end. “Actually, yes.”
“What are you up to today?” I text back.
“Not much. You?”
“Just hanging out with my mom.”
“What time does she go to bed?” he asks.
“The time varies. Why?”
“Because I want to see you tonight, and I figure you’ll probably want me to wait until she’s in bed.”
My heart speeds up. “You want to see me?”
“At your place. In your room.”
In my room?
I chew on my bottom lip, debating. I would really like to see him, but I don’t usually let people in the house since Mom is sick and we can’t risk germs being brought in.
It would probably be safe to keep him in my room, though. I could bring him straight here and close the door. Mom never comes in here anymore.
What will we do?
My mind wanders to bad places, but we can’t do anything like that. Last night shouldn’t have even happened, but at least it was spontaneous. Tonight would be premeditated. He’s asking me to let him come over, I’ll have all night to think about it…