Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 104766 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104766 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
He lets out a heavy sigh, the tension in his voice finally giving way to something resembling resignation. "You've got a long way to go to make this right, Drew. Tess is hurt; I have no idea why, but I plan to get to the bottom of it.”
I nod even though he can’t see me. “Fair enough.”
“I don't know if or when she'll be ready to forgive you.”
Swallowing hard, I feel my throat tighten. "I understand. I promise to give her the space she needs.”
He's silent for a moment, and I can almost hear the cogs turning in his head. Finally, he says, "Fine. Here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna make it up to Tess, and you're gonna do it without screwing up even more. You hurt her, and if you hurt her again, I will fly to Illinois and beat your ass. Understand.”
“Uh. How did that work out the last time you tried?”
“Screw you, dude.”
I can hear the grin on his face even though he probably wouldn’t admit it.
“Just saying. You’d have to take me by surprise if you were going to get a fair fight.”
He scoffs. “Listen. I hate that you and my sister…you know. Fucking hate it. But I hate that she’s upset even more. I’ve never seen her like this.”
“Like how?”
“Cryin’. Seems miserable. Been sick.”
She’s been sick?
Weird.
“She didn’t say anything to me about being sick. She said she was busy with school, and that night she ran out of gas on the side of the street really stressed her out.”
Grady goes quiet, thinking. “Ran out of gas on the side of the street? When was that?”
I shrug. “Don’t know, two weeks ago maybe?”
“Huh.” He’s quiet. “Weird.”
"I promise, Grady," I reply earnestly. "I'll do everything in my power to make things right between us—you and I. Me and her."
"Good," he says. "Because Tess deserves better than someone who makes her feel like crap, and you damn well know it."
"I know," I say, my voice heavy with remorse. "I thought I made her feel good. Shit. I don’t mean that the way it came out, I meant I thought we made each other laugh. She’s funny as hell and a good friend.”
“A good friend,” he deadpans.
“Again, not what I meant.”
Jesus, this guy.
He’s coming at me hard.
Not that I don’t deserve it, but damn, I like her. Why is that a problem?
There's a moment of silence, and I can almost sense the weight of his scrutiny through the phone. "You better. And if you hurt her again, you won't just have to deal with me. You'll have the entire football team on your ass."
I chuckle despite the seriousness of the situation. "Have you already forgotten that you don’t play football anymore?”
“I meant the intramural league I play with on the weekends, smartass.”
“Uh. Aren’t those mostly dads and ex-frat boys?”
“Shut up. I won't hesitate to tackle you harder than any linebacker ever has.”
I can't help but laugh at that mental image. "Deal, Grady. You win. No tackling from you or your dad frat football team; I'll be on my best behavior, and I'll do whatever it takes to win Tess back."
“Not sure if I want you winning my sister over but I would love to have my sister back. She’s making me sad, dude.”
"Understood," I reply with a nod. "Thanks for giving me a chance to make things right, Grady."
"Don't thank me yet," he warns. “I’m dying to pummel your ass.”
“Yeah, you’ve said that like twelve times.”
“Fuck you.”
“You’ve said that like twelve times, too.”
I’m confused when we hang up.
What the hell is going on, and why isn’t she telling me about it? What could she be crying about? And when was she going to tell me she’s sick?
Sick.
How?
Does she have Covid and didn’t want me to know?
Shit.
Do I need to get tested?
A million things run through my mind, and I can hardly sleep at all when I finally crawl into bed, a conversation I had with Tess flashing through my brain after we’d had sex that night—the first time, not the second.
“I can’t get pregnant.”
“What do you mean you can’t get pregnant?” I’d turned my head to look at her. “How do you know?”
“I had endometriosis as a teenager, and I have low progesterone. The doctor told me my chances were slim. Like—super slim.”
“But not impossible?”
“I guess not impossible, but according to my research…”
Tess wasn’t pregnant.
I would know.
She would tell me.
CHAPTER 37
DREW
ACTUALLY. IT WASN’T A ONE-NIGHT STAND CONSIDERING WE DID IT AGAIN IN THE MORNING.
I'm sprawled across my bed, engrossed in a novel, when the door to my bedroom bursts open. I startle, nearly dropping my book as my brother Drake barges in with his usual flair for dramatic entrances. He's wearing his signature smirk, the one that usually means he's about to rope me into some harebrained scheme or mock my life choices.