Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 66715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
I admit it, okay? I was a glutton for punishment.
I knew that I couldn’t have her—for reasons that I refused to focus on at that moment in time—but that didn’t mean that I could completely turn my brain off and ignore her like I wanted to.
Which was why, after a month of thinking about her nonstop, I was now doing something stupid—attending the class that she normally attended.
I had a plan.
I would sit in my truck and wait until she either A, arrived, or B, didn’t.
If she didn’t arrive, then I would be heading back home where I seriously needed to get some work done on my fixer-upper house.
All of those years ago, when we’d first been kicked out of our home, I’d seen this old house with its guest house and big ass pool, and thought, ‘That’s where I want to live someday.’
And, when we’d come back home, I’d bought it sight unseen.
Possibly, I should’ve looked at it first.
At least it was livable.
My mom’s guest/pool house had been completely renovated and updated with all the latest appliances.
The main house, however, not so much.
It needed a lot of work, and it was exhausting after working a twelve-hour day as a mechanic.
Luckily, though, I only worked four days a week, leaving me with three full days to get shit done in it.
However, fixing one thing only led to another thing wrong.
And I was getting frustrated.
Not to mention while I was fixing the house, I thought about what a certain someone would think.
Like paint colors.
Why was I thinking to myself, ‘this blue is the color of Mavis’s eyes?’ When I should be thinking, ‘Why the fuck am I painting my living room blue?’
I was so focused inwardly on my house and what needed done, and what I shouldn’t do—like think of whether Mavis would like sparkly fucking quartz countertops—that I almost missed her going inside.
When I did see her, it was to see the back end of her disappearing through the door.
Feeling my heartrate accelerate, I picked up my shit from the bench seat beside me and slid out of my truck.
The pounding rain that’d been plaguing Paris, Texas all day instantly soaked me.
I groaned and walked through the rain until I got to the front door.
Just as I was reaching for the door handle, the door opened, and a glaring Mavis stared back at me.
“Get out of the rain already,” she grumbled when I froze.
I snorted. “Thanks for getting the door.”
She scoffed. “You don’t have to sound like you’re disgusted that I got it for you.”
“I could’ve gotten it myself,” I pointed out.
She put her hands on her hips, and that’s when I saw how much she’d grown in the last four weeks.
She’d gotten massive.
Not that I would ever point that out.
“You could just say thank you,” she suggested haughtily.
I could have.
I probably should have.
But there was something about seeing Mavis riled that really did it for me.
That, and I still wasn’t quite on her side.
My mom was right. I didn’t know how to let things go.
But being homeless wasn’t something that you could just ‘let go.’
“Thank you,” I finally grumbled.
“Everyone gather around and let’s get started warming up!” Madden yelled.
I looked over to see him staring at Mavis and me.
My brows rose.
He looked at Mavis, then at me, then at Mavis again, clearly saying something I couldn’t comprehend with his eyes.
I ignored him and turned slightly away from Mavis.
She glared hard at me, something in which I caught out of the corner of my eye, and then sighed long and loud before turning to face Madden.
“Today we’re going to do thirty solid minutes of rowing or running,” he looked outside. “I’m going to assume that the majority of you will be rowing.”
I looked over my shoulder to the bank of windows that looked toward the parking lot, then snorted. “I don’t know why you would think that.”
Mavis snickered at my words.
The front door banged, and we all turned to look just as another member all but stumbled through the door.
“Goddamn,” Soren snarled as he tossed his shit on the ground. “It’s fucking tornadoing outside.”
“Tornadoing isn’t a word, Soren,” I called.
Soren flipped me off and stripped out of his sopping wet shirt.
He tossed it to the ground and then moved to his pants at the same time as he stepped out of his navy-blue Crocs.
I chuckled as all the ladies in the room all but moaned in excitement.
Turning away, I looked out of the corner of my eye to see if Mavis was looking and got irrationally pissed when I saw she was.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I felt the anger rise.
“Everybody grab a jump rope!” Madden called.
Those of us that had our own walked to our bags. Those that didn’t walked to the opposite wall and grabbed a gym one.