Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 76695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“Today is a Brand New kind of day,” she said, taking a deep breath as the singer’s voice drifted into the room. “A little wallow-y. It hits right,” she said as she lowered herself down on the couch, leaving room for me to sit.
Surprising myself, I did just that.
And we sat in complete fucking silence, drinking our coffee and listening to the music.
The entire damn CD.
When it went to static before the CD player switched to the next CD, I looked ahead at the wall.
“What songs or bands would you recommend to someone who’s been down in a hole?” I asked.
“You mean aside from ‘Down in a Hole’ the unplugged version by Alice in Chains?” she asked, and something about the easy way she said that had me turning to look over at her.
There was no concern or judgment on her face, just a sort of deep understanding.
Because maybe she’d been in a hole once too.
And maybe music was one aspect that helped her crawl out of it.
“Yeah,” I said, nodding.
Lexy made a clicking sound with her tongue before climbing off of the couch, disappearing for a moment, then coming back with a notepad and pen.
“So you can’t go wrong with NF. And Staind. Especially the earlier stuff. ‘Black’ by Pearl Jam. ‘This Night’ by Black Lab. This keeps you mostly in the rock-type category. If you are ever interested in venturing into the singer-songwriter, emo, or country genres, let me know. They’ve got some killer depression tracks too.”
“You listen to country?” I asked, gaze moving over her.
“I listen to everything,” she said, leaning closer toward me as she said it, like it was vitally important that I took that to heart.
The thing was, she leaned closer.
And we were already close as fuck on the couch.
Her face was just inches from mine.
There’d been no sign at all that she’d be interested if I made a move. And, objectively, it was really horrible fucking timing.
But, somehow, that didn’t stop me as I leaned forward, as my lips claimed hers.
Not tentatively, either.
My hand grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her closer as my lips slanted, as they pressed deeper.
There was a second of shocked inaction, but she didn’t pull away.
When a soft sigh escaped her, my fingers shifted up into her hair, giving a gentle tug to tip her head back as my teeth nipped her lower lip, dragging a quiet moan out of her.
The sound reverberated into my chest, creating a warmth that spread outward, thawing a chill that had been inside for far too long.
I was shifting forward, bending her backward, when there was the sudden stomp of feet on the front steps, something that had us both breaking away. Not like guilty teenagers who’d been caught necking. But like two victims who’d very recently been attacked.
My hand was reaching toward my ankle where I had a holster when the door flew open.
“Alexandra Marie Baker,” a voice snapped as my gaze landed on Lexy’s little sister.
Lottie.
“Charlotte Lynn Baker,” Lexy said back, sounding breathless, and I felt a smirk tug at my lips at that sound. “What are you barging in here all exasperated for?”
“Lunch. Helloooo,” Lottie said, lifting the bag in her hand and waving it around.
“Oh, shit. Sorry. The word got around to Andrew about what happened to me, so he came in and sent me home.”
“Thank God someone has some sense. I’ll have to send him something to thank him. A fruit basket? Do men like fruit baskets?” she asked, looking at me, her eyes wide and soft.
I’d figured her sweet, open demeanor at the clubhouse the night before was mostly thanks to the booze she’d been plied with. But it looked like that was just how she was.
It was interesting how different siblings could be.
Lottie was a lot like the Golden Retriever energy Lexy had assigned to Sully. Whereas Lexy herself was something a little more standoffish. A surly junkyard dog, I guess. Quick to bark and bite if you so much as walked a little too close to her space.
“Ah, fruit is good,” I said.
“Right? I mean, what’s not to like? Oh! Maybe muffins! Or, I think they do, like, donut bouquets now too.”
“You don’t need to get Andrew a donut bouquet for taking over my shift for a day.”
“Well, someone needed to force you to rest,” she insisted. “Someone should be forcing you to rest too,” she said, taking in my face before her gaze lasered in on my busted-up knuckles.
“I wanted to check on Lexy first,” I said, tilting my head toward her.
“Oh, well, good,” she said, beaming at me. “Want some very bland lunch? You look pretty knocked around too, so maybe you’re queasy like Lex is.”
“I’m alright,” I said.
“Your lip is bleeding,” Lottie announced.
I felt a sting, but I just figured that was par for the course. But when my tongue slipped out, I tasted blood.