Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 122966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
“Where’s his surfboard?” Darius muttered under his breath.
“He’s the reason Elise joined the swim team,” Ethan provided.
It meant he was the reason she wasn’t stopping by as many early mornings anymore. Because she’d advanced quickly, and now she had practice before school most days. She’d taken swimming lessons when she was younger; she’d even competed a little—outside of school. Now Fucking Chad had recruited her.
“Everyone, this is Chad.” She beamed over at us. “Chad—my mom and dad, Mary and James. Then my brothers—Ryan, Darius, Ethan, Lias, and sort of Avery. You’ve met him already. He’s part of the family, and so is Evelina, Lias’s girlfriend. And that’s Willow.”
Surfer Boy took one look at me before averting his gaze and forcing a polite smile for James and Mary.
The guys and I exchanged a few glances and nods while Fucking Chad was busy greeting the folks, and Darius spoke under his breath about me going first.
“All right.” I leaned back in my seat and clasped my fingers over my stomach.
Mary and Evelina made Chad feel welcome, more so than he deserved, and James begrudgingly fetched an extra chair.
“Chad, can I get you a beer?” I asked.
He was almost eighteen, not that it was a reason for him to accept the offer.
Except, the second he slid a surprised but happy smile onto his face, we got further proof of what an idiot we were dealing with.
“Suh-weet. Yeah, I’ll have a beer. Thanks, Av—uh, I mean, Mr. Becker.”
“Strike one,” we guys said in unison.
While Fucking Chad sat ramrod straight in his seat and flushed, Mary and Pipsqueak shot us all warning looks.
James smiled.
Ethan silently set a Coke in front of Fucking Chad.
Lias cleared his throat and sat forward. “So, what’re your plans for the evening? Y’all heading out?”
Pipsqueak made sure to answer first. “Yes, we’re heading up to see Grandma at the home. Do you have a problem with that? Is my boyfriend possibly a delinquent for spending a few hours with me and a group of senior citizens?”
“Depends,” Darius said, taking over. “How’re you getting up there?”
“Chad has a car,” Pipsqueak answered, frustrated.
“Strike two,” Ryan and Darius declared.
Then Ryan continued. “He’s a delinquent for wanting a beer right before he plans on getting behind the wheel with our baby sister in the car.”
“For the record,” Ethan took over, “you only get two strikes.”
I had a feeling Fucking Chad wouldn’t last very long in this family.
He lasted throughout the summer.
The day before I returned to work and the new semester, Pipsqueak knocked on the patio door until I woke up, and the sight that greeted me caused my chest to constrict. She stood there in too-short shorts, presumably Chad’s T-shirt, and tears were streaming down her face.
I opened the door and didn’t get the chance to rub the sleep from my eyes before she flew at me and locked her arms around my middle.
“It’s over,” she sobbed.
I suppressed a sigh and hugged her to me. “Tell me what happened.”
As entertaining as it would’ve been to claim we’d given Chad hell all summer long, it would’ve been a lie. Darius was off on another assignment, Ryan was in San Francisco, Lias was backpacking with his girl, and Ethan and I had spent the summer working on his new loft in the Valley. Additionally, we were adults. We’d given him some shit that first time; that was all.
“He became a fucking asshole, that’s what happened.” Pipsqueak inched back and wept as she swiped her hands fruitlessly over her cheeks. “He indicated that my times are improving too quickly, and it won’t look good if he comes back for a new season and feels threatened by his g-girlfriend.” The last word left her in a pained wail.
I winced and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “He’s an insecure douchebag, in other words.”
“He really is,” she cried. “Guys fucking suck.”
Poor girl. Poor me. She’d really landed smack-dab in the middle of teenage drama, and somehow, it’d been dropped into my lap too.
“Come on, let me make you some coffee.” Because this child drank coffee these days. Admittedly with a truckload of sugar, but nevertheless. “You’ll get past that fuckwit in no time, and then you’ll find someone better when you’re ready. He was just one guy.”
Listen to yourself.
Just one guy. Like my mother had been just one woman, and my ex-wife had been another.
Right, and then all the other cheating whores who’d let me fuck them before they went home to their boyfriends and husbands.
Then Darius entered my head, or rather, what he’d said once. One action didn’t make a person…or something along those lines.
Pipsqueak collapsed at my kitchen table, her face falling into her hands, and I busied myself with the coffeemaker. Over the years, I’d amassed a selection of items in one of my cupboards for Pipsqueak-related emergencies—some chocolate bars, but also grape jelly, a box of cookies, honey, tea, and the brown sugar she preferred in her coffee.