Total pages in book: 170
Estimated words: 168980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 845(@200wpm)___ 676(@250wpm)___ 563(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 168980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 845(@200wpm)___ 676(@250wpm)___ 563(@300wpm)
Akara pockets the car keys. “You never needed to call to spend the night before, and there’s no way your mom revoked that open invitation.”
She sighs heavily. “Fuck, I wish you both could spend the night too.”
I fit the radio in the glove compartment. “We’ll be alright in a motel.”
“Hotel,” Akara corrects me.
“Whatever he says, since he’s paying,” I say, putting a toothpick between my lips. I give her a onceover. Tension lines her broad shoulders. “You sure you want us to see your parents with you?”
She nods strongly. “My dad will have to get used to the idea of us being together. I’m not hiding it.”
The corner of my mouth lifts. She latches onto the way I look at her. With pride and love. She’s someone I’ve wanted to stand beside. The girl who hates loneliness, who rages against sleep, who laughs and jokes and loves and screams when she needs to scream.
What I respect about Ryke is that he raised a woman like Sulli. She wouldn’t be who she is without him, and while I’m not looking for his respect in return or his approval like Akara—who cares what Ryke thinks—I don’t plan to go in guns blazing.
Akara isn’t ordering me to behave or keep your mouth shut, Banks. For one, I’m now off-duty, and for another, I do have a filter. Can’t make it in the Marine Corps without biting your tongue in half.
We unmount from the Jeep, and Akara and I let Sulli go ahead of us. Walking behind, we’re dressed for a casual affair. My mom would shit a fucking brick knowing I didn’t wear my best. Not because Sulli is American royalty needing to be impressed, but because these are my girl’s parents who deserve my best effort.
Tonight, my best effort is an opened gray long-sleeve button-down, white tee beneath, and jeans.
Akara’s best effort is a black hoodie under a red Columbia windbreaker.
“What do you want for your birthday?” I ask Akara. December 18th will be around the corner before we know it.
“That’s what you’re asking before we see the parents?” His breath frosts the cold air.
“No time is a bad time except the times that are good times.”
He laughs into a groan, “Dang, Banks, just when I think you’re tapped out of nonsensical mottos, you pull that one out of your ass.”
“Came from my heart,” I say quietly, “but you would confuse my ass with my heart.”
Akara laughs, then says, “Just buy me a six-pack. What you always do.”
“I can’t get you what I always get you. It’s different now.” Between us, is the unsaid thing.
He holds my gaze for a stronger beat, and then the porch lights turn on while we’re walking towards the door.
They know we’re here.
I’m guessing we triggered their motion sensor cameras. Can’t even pull off a secret arrival with modern-day technology.
My boots hit the front stoop just behind Sulli.
The door swings open.
A tall blonde with shoulder-length hair fills the doorway. Green eyes, the same emerald pools as Sulli’s, are on us, then on her daughter.
“Sulli.” Daisy’s radiant smile pulls at an old scar along her cheek, and instantly, she draws her daughter into the tightest hug. They sway playfully side-to-side in the embrace.
When they pull back, Daisy brushes her nose with Sulli’s, and I watch Sulli exhale in relief. She hugs her mom another time, and then asks, “You’re not upset that I just showed up?”
Daisy frowns. “No. This will always, always be your home. You can show up whenever you want. I want you to.” Her eyes flit to me and Akara. “And I see you brought your devilishly handsome boyfriends.” She wags her brows at her daughter.
Sulli blushes at either handsome or boyfriends.
“Ma’am.” I hold out my hand.
Daisy grins. “The formality of it all.” She grabs my hand and does one strong shake, like something you’d see in The Parent Trap or at summer camp. “I’ve known you for years, Banks. You can call me Daisy—not Duck, not Duke, and definitely not Buchanan. I’m a Meadows.”
She’s the youngest of the Calloway sisters, only in her early forties, and tabloids say she’s the sun to Ryke’s shadow. I’m hoping she’s doused him with fuckin’ light rays and magma since the last time we encountered his dark cloud.
And I hang onto something Daisy said:
I’ve known you for years, Banks.
Not in the same way as Akara. I’ve just been that bodyguard attached to a Hale.
“Daisy,” I correct. “How are you?”
“Better now that I’ve seen Sulli in one lively piece.” Her eyes glitter against Sulli’s green orbs. Daisy turns her gaze onto Akara, and her smile shifts a fraction, not disappearing completely. “Akara.”
“Daisy,” Akara nods. “Is Ryke still ready to rip out my jugular?”
She seesaws her hand. “It changes daily, honestly.” She opens the door wider. “Enter at your own risk.” Her brows wag again, and I see where Sulli gets some of her playfulness.