Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 105306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Dang, he already knows me so well.
“Do you realize when you say I should find someone responsible and respectable or whatever, those adjectives are subjective? Your version of respectable and mine may not be the same thing. Someone you might not bring home to your mama may be exactly the kind of woman I’d bring home to mine.”
“Fine.” He sighs, defeated. “You’re right. Do what you want.”
I sit back.
Well.
This is no fun. He’s just going to give up lecturing me that easily?
Jeez.
“Do what I want.” I raise a brow. “By that you mean, keep playing and doing what I do and don’t worry about the other shit?”
“Sure.”
Why do I feel like he’s trying to trick me?
Is this that reverse psychology bullshit?
“Sure? That’s it?”
His shoulder rises and falls. “Sure.”
Eli Cohen smiles, and I see the reason my brother likes him so much; the guy cares a lot, but he also gives no fucks. But he also really gives a shit. But he doesn’t.
It’s a mind fuck, let me tell you.
Downstairs, I hear the doorbell ring.
“Expecting company on a Monday night?” My agent is watching me look toward my bedroom door, which is open.
I don’t hear the sound of either of my younger brothers.
The doorbell rings again.
“Persistent, eh?” Eli says.
“Drake!” I listen for the sound of footsteps. “Drew!”
Nothing.
“Can someone get the damn door?”
Eli yawns and stretches. “Our time is up anyway. I’ll leave you to it.”
I lean forward to hit the end button on the call, but not before adding, “Thanks for your time.”
“Same. We’ll chat soon.”
My agent ends the call, and I shove my chair away from the desk, rolling a few feet before standing.
I stick my head through Drew’s bedroom doorway.
Empty.
Stick my head into Drake’s bedroom.
Empty.
With a loud sigh, I head down the stairs, yanking the front door open without glancing through the window to see who it is.
Big mistake.
Huge.
I don’t bother pasting on a smile, don’t bother with pleasantries—I already know what these three chicks want.
Leaning against the doorjamb, I cross my arms. “Hey.”
“Oh!” The blonde who lives next door has a big smile on her face, eyes wide with surprise. Not sure if it’s because she wasn’t expecting it to be me opening the door or because she was hoping it would be. “Dallas, hi.”
“Hi.”
We’ve never been formally introduced—I have no clue what her name is or what any of their names are—but they definitely know me and my brothers.
Almost positive Drake fucked one of them the first week we moved in.
Anyway, it’s cold as hell tonight and these three are dressed like they’re going to a dance club. Maybe they are, but dang. You wouldn’t catch me standing on someone’s porch not wearing a jacket.
The brunette shivers and gives the blonde a jab.
“Are the twins around?”
“No.”
If they’re frustrated by my lack of enthusiasm, the other blonde certainly shows it, mouth opening and closing a few times to say something but thinking better of it. Or not actually having much of anything to say?
“Are you expecting them back anytime soon?” The blonde cranes her neck to see behind me, as if the twins are hiding and I’m lying about them being home. Or perhaps she’s trying to see if I have a visitor?
“No idea.” I squint down at them. “Aren’t you cold?”
They all shiver. “So cold.”
“Why aren’t you wearing coats?” It’s like, thirty degrees.
“They don’t go with our dresses.” Duh.
“That sucks.” If I were a steer, I’d be chewing cud, that’s how bored I am with this conversation. “Anything else?”
I got better things to do, and these three aren’t my type. I like a woman who’s smart enough to wear clothes when it’s cold out, Jesus Christ.
“Can we come in?” One of them is brave enough to ask, the brunette who’s wearing the least amount of clothes of the trio, shaking like a leaf in a metallic gray, spaghetti-strap dress.
“Nope.” I push myself off the doorjamb, rubbing my hands together. Take hold of the door to close it. “Whelp, see y’all around. Maybe go put some sweaters on or somethin’.”
“You’re such a dick!” one of them retorts, her long dangling earrings catching the light from the porch lamp.
“Oh, good comeback.” I grin. “If I’m such a dick, why would you want to come inside?”
I take pleasure in slamming the door.
eight
ryann
“There are two sides to every story, but he’s a douche in both of them.”
– Winnie to Ryann
“I swear I’m not following you.”
“Really,” I drawl. “Is that why you’re following me? Again?”
He plops all of his crap on the desk next to mine and sits without an invitation.
Not that he needs one, but it would still be polite of him to ask.
“We are in the same class,” he mutters. “Relax.”
My head whips toward him. “Don’t you know it’s a trigger to tell a woman to relax?”
“Is it?” He doesn’t care. “Weird.”