Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 530(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 530(@300wpm)
“But I don’t want him to put himself in danger and say it’s for us. You said Grandpa left me money for school. I’ll graduate and find a good job.” I wish I felt as confident as I sound. “Together, we’ll be fine.”
“That’s not how Griff operates. He’ll never accept sponging off of you.” He tips his head back and runs his hand over the top of his head. “Christ, he barely wanted to take the small amount of money Gramps left him.”
“Why? Nana and Grandpa loved Griff.”
“Yeah, they did. And that’s how I convinced him to accept it. Then we turned around and bought The Castle with that money.”
“You have to have earned that back by now.” For a while, it seemed like they hosted fight nights there every weekend.
“Yes and no. It’s…a lot.” Remy shakes his head. “What I’m trying to say is, Griff doesn’t have a family who gave him any kind of head start.” He pulls a disgusted face. “If anything, his parents left him in a deficit. With his mom’s issues, she’s basically an emotional and financial vampire. He barely got to be a kid at all.”
“As bad as Dad is, we had Mom for a little while. And our grandparents,” I whisper in agreement.
Remy nods. “I’m not saying this so you’ll throw him a pity party. I want you to have some context. As hard as it’s been to maintain, Nana and Gramps left you and me with something—the bar and the house. If I wasn’t so stubborn and sentimental, I could sell the bar.” He glances over my shoulder toward the house. “The house…that’s something you and I will have to talk about when you’re older.”
Sell our grandparents’ house? Pain squeezes behind my eyes. So many happy memories live between those walls. How can Remy even suggest we sell it?
“You don’t want to live with me forever, do you?” Remy cocks an eyebrow as if he’s reading my mind.
“Sure.” I force some teasing cheer into my voice. “Griff and I will get married. He’ll move in here and you can be the manny to our kids.”
He rumbles with laughter. “Male nannies get paid, little sis. I ain’t working for free.”
At least he didn’t freak out about his future nieces and nephews. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far ahead.”
“Right, because it’s not your job to worry about houses and finances right now.” He steps closer and lowers his voice. “Your job is to finish school and go to college. Your brother’s job is to start working smarter instead of harder.”
“I hope that means less fighting, not more. I worry about you getting brain damage.” And now I’m right back to fretting over Griff. “What kind of reality show is this, anyway? Isn’t the point of your underground fights to keep them underground? Not bleed on television?”
He shrugs. “Lots of guys have come up that way. Do what they can, earn some money, then turn legit.”
Turn legit? Like travel all over, fighting professionally? “Is that what Griff wants?”
“I didn’t think so. But I don’t know what they promised him.”
It finally occurs to me that for the first time in their long friendship one of them made a huge decision without the other’s input.
“You okay?” Remy asks.
“I guess so.”
“Good.” He blows out a breath. “I’m going to miss him too. And I’m worried about him.” He glances at the hydrangeas and almost seems on the verge of changing the topic.
“Worried? Why?”
“I doubt it’s only a reality show about guys training for a fight. Those shows thrive on drama. All the emotional highs and lows force viewers to take a side and get them invested in watching every single week.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Watching a bunch of guys prep for fights every episode will get boring quick.”
For the first time since I learned about it, I realize Griff has the potential to be exposed to thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of women who will fall for his looks without caring one bit about what a good man he is on the inside.
I don’t want to share my boyfriend with the world.
I don’t want to lose him.
“They like to cast unstable people in those shows and manufacture drama by fucking with the contestants’ heads,” Remy continues, oblivious to the new fears invading my mind. “The kind of behavior Griff hates. He’s been ducking and weaving away from that kind of shit his whole life.”
Shame washes over me. I’ve only been thinking of myself and my insecurities. Not what participating in the show might cost Griff. If he really wants to do this, he’ll need my support.
“If you’re done abusing the hydrangeas, do you think you could take me to the store and then drop me off at Griff’s?” I have to see him and actually listen to him this time.