Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
I’m left to wonder where the grandma’s staying if not here—and why Nadine didn’t offer her either guestroom. “Thanks.”
“Of course.” Bobby smiles brightly.
I realize I can’t stand to look at his sweetly smiling face for too long. And when my gaze dances away from his face, it finds itself on the kitchen island where an opened box of ornaments was left by someone too lazy to put it away, utterly out of place.
And behind that box hides a wallet.
“Oh, there you go,” I say, ditching my glass to fetch the wallet. I lift it in the air and give it a wiggle.
Bobby’s eyes light up. “Amazing!” He rushes up to me.
We meet a lot closer than intended, our faces almost crashing together when we come to a stop. I hand him the wallet. He takes it and holds it to his chest, then smiles into my eyes. I smile back.
“Lost things never stay lost forever,” he states.
I stare into Bobby Parker’s eyes, all kinds of lost. His answers still sound like poetry to me.
Before I know it, he’s leaving. “Thanks again, Malcolm. Really appreciate it!” He smiles again and pockets the wallet. “I hope you get a good night’s rest! Whatever they stuff the mattresses with in this house is pure heaven, I swear, I can’t even describe it. You’ll know when you know. Like sleeping on clouds.”
“Goodnight, Bobby,” I say simply.
He gives an awkward nod, then sees himself the rest of the way out of the house. I stand by the island and watch him go. It isn’t until he’s gone that I realize I’m pulling on a stray thread at my sleeve, nearly causing the whole hem to come undone.
I turn around to resume getting my drink—and my foot kicks into a folded-up slip of paper, sending it skittering across the tile. It must have fallen out of Jimmy’s wallet, I guess.
When I pick it up, curiosity gets the better of me. I open it.
It’s his wedding vows.
Of course it’s his vows, folded up in his wallet like a fast food receipt, scribbled out in a third grader’s handwriting complete with crossed-out phrases and at least two misspellings that I can spot.
Not that I dared to read it.
All of it.
I sigh and stuff the piece of paper away. I’ll give it to Nadine later—or to whoever the hell I run into tomorrow who can return it to Jimmy, because I’m sure not delivering it to him myself.
I lie in bed for a substantial amount of time, peering up at the blank ceiling. It’s the only place I can look after noticing there’s a framed picture of Jimmy and his brother Tanner sitting proudly on the nightstand by the bed, staring at me.
I wonder if Samuel is lying awake right now, staring up at his own ceiling. What does his ceiling look like? Where does he live? I don’t even know if it’s a house, an apartment, or some back room of the veterinary clinic.
One second, I’m hoping I didn’t really hurt his feelings today.
The next second, I wonder why I care.
The second after that, I’m picturing him cuddling that bunny in his arms, that Luigi De Bald-Ass bunny, how the little guy kept burying his face in Samuel’s arms, shy and adorable.
Then Samuel isn’t wearing a shirt, still cuddling the bunny.
Then he isn’t wearing pants, either.
He looks up from the bunny wearing nothing at all except for that lopsided, cocky smile of his, smug in his birthday suit.
“Wanna pet my bunny?” he asks.
I clamp my eyes shut and roll onto my side, determined to stamp out all thoughts of imaginary naked Samuel and that cute, shy little rabbit hiding in his arms.
Is that supposed to be me? Am I the rabbit?
When my eyes open, I find the picture of Jimmy and Tanner staring back at me, their stupid brotherly grins in my face.
I roll onto my back again with a huff. The huge blank ceiling stretches overhead.
Imaginary naked Samuel appears once more like he never left. “Pet my bunny,” he tells me.
Is this supposed to be sexy? Is this supposed to turn me on?
It’s downright weird.
“C’mon.” The shy rabbit in his arms is gone suddenly. It’s just Samuel as he saunters across a semi-dark room full of caged-up animals—naked, lean, with all the confidence of a runway model. “You know you wanna, Malckie.”
That’s not my name.
“Touch yourself, Malckie.”
What? Hell no. I’m in Jimmy Strong’s old bed.
“Isn’t that all the more reason? Give him a big fuck-you.”
Stop it.
“Rub one out for me, Malckie.” Samuel is right in front of me now, his face inches from mine. “You’re so uptight. You need some relief. You’re desperate for some relief.”
I shut my eyes again.
Samuel is still there, following me to the dark place behind my eyelids where dreams live. “You want me to kiss you again?”