Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 131330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
I pull back out of his arms and offer him a real smile, not one of the usual sneers we’re so comfortable throwing at one another. “You didn’t let me down, Austin. It was a shitty situation, and you handled it perfectly. You weren’t close enough to get to me on time, so you made sure someone else was, someone who would protect me just as fiercely as you would. And he did. He stayed on the phone with me the whole time and kept me calm. He even had me make a weapon out of a pen and then beat the shit out of that asshole. You did everything right, and I’m so thankful that you were there to answer the call when I needed you.”
“Ugh,” he says, his face twisting with disgust. “Don’t go and get all sentimental on me. I don’t like it.”
“You started it.”
“Yeah,” he scoffs. “Remind me to never do that again.”
I roll my eyes, and we finally walk out of the foyer and leave the sappy shit behind. As we make our way past the living room and into the kitchen, I find Mom already going through my bags with Dad at her side, trying to put it all back in. “Hey. Hands off. It’s my show today,” I say to Mom, stepping into her other side only to get an equally as big hug from her, maybe even bigger than Austin’s had been.
“Oh, my sweet girl,” she says, refusing to let go. “I’m so sorry you went through all of that. You must have been so scared.”
A wave of emotion crashes through me, and I hold on to her tighter, momentarily unable to get the words past the lump forming in my throat. Even though it’s been a few days and I’ve spoken to her at length on the phone, there’s still just something about being wrapped in my mother’s arms that offers me the type of security I could never get from anywhere else, not even with Izaac.
Her hand roams up and down my back, and as I finally start to find a little composure, I lift my gaze. Finding Izaac’s stare on me, the memories of that night bring up a lot of emotion in both of us. He holds my stare for just a moment before reluctantly looking away, because had he not, I surely would have given it away.
Dad leans in and wraps his arms around Mom and me before pressing a kiss to my temple. “Are you really okay, sweetheart?” he asks. “And don’t even think about lying to your old man.”
“Really,” I say, wriggling free of their death grip. “I’m okay. I was a little shaken, and it definitely wasn’t a great situation to be in, but I’m fine. The ambulance took him away with a police escort and both Izaac and I made our statements. So if it’s okay with you, I would very much appreciate it if you could all get your asses out of my kitchen so I can cook us all an incredible lunch.”
Mom rolls her eyes as Dad mutters under his breath, and I let out a sigh of relief as they finally make their way out toward the living room. Only Izaac remains right where he is. “Ahhhh. Isn’t anybody else the least bit concerned?” he asks, making Mom, Dad, and Austin all stop and look back. “Aspen can’t cook for shit, and I don’t know about you guys, but I have a busy week coming up. I can’t risk the food poisoning.”
My jaw practically falls to the floor. He did not just say that.
“I’ll have you know—” I start to argue when Austin cuts in. “Yeah, not gonna lie. I’m worried about that too. I’m interviewing potential staff this week, and it’s not gonna be a great look if I keep running back and forth from the toilet.”
The boys snicker as though it’s the funniest thing in the world, and I stride over to Izaac and grab his arm before shoving him right out of the kitchen and into my moronic brother. “Get your asses out of here. The only reason either of you would spend the next week shitting yourselves is because you finally realized how far up each other’s asses you are and it turns into a bloody competition of who can claw their way out faster.”
Austin simply stares at me. “How dare you speak of my ass like that.”
“For what it’s worth. My money’s on asshole number 2,” I say, indicating toward Izaac. “Don’t get me wrong, he definitely seems like an ass man, but when it comes to yours, even the women are running in the opposite direction.”
“There goes my appetite,” Dad mutters before walking away with Mom.
Izaac smirks, meeting my stare. “Thank you. I appreciate your vote of confidence,” he says. “And because you brought it up, I am indeed an ass man.”