Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 32145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
“If you and your brother could learn to get along, you wouldn’t have to face punishment for your crimes.” Fischl pats Van on the head as if he’s five.
“Punishment?” It’s hard to think of anyone punishing those two. They look like grown men. I have to know this story. Van must see it in my expression because he gives me what I want without having to ask for once.
“We had to clean the toilets for two weeks.”
“Two weeks? That’s it?” I squawk. Then I cringe, realizing it probably sounds like I’m challenging his mom’s parenting. “No offense,” I hastily add.
Fischl laughs and waves her hand. “No offense taken. There are a lot of toilets here, and I made them clean them every other day. Trust me, by the end of the two weeks, they were best friends.”
“That’s taking it a little far, Mom. I’d say we have settled into a non-physical ceasefire.”
“You two seemed chummy tonight,” I chime in.
“Really?” Fischl’s eyes light up. Van’s nose flares. I have to fight not to laugh.
“When he’s not being a dick.” Van shrugs. Fischl rolls her eyes.
I get the feeling that it's more Van taking jabs at Dunc. Dunc does whatever he can to make Sadie happy. If Van would take a second, maybe he could have the kind of family the rest of us dream about.
“Is Sadie here?” I asked, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction.
“She’s in her room, but Dunc thinks he just made a sneaky slip in. So he’s also in there.”
“Gross,” Van mutters.
“Are you here to see her or Van?” Fischl asks.
“She’s spending the night,” Van responds before I get a chance. I’m thankful because I wasn’t sure what I was going to say.
“Oh.” Fischl’s eyebrows rise.
“Who’s staying the night?” The same man I saw at the game comes strolling into the kitchen. He comes right over to Fischl, pulling her into his side. Van’s mouth tightens.
“Fleur,” Fischl answers. “She and Van are—”
“Dating.”
“Friends.” Van and I both speak at the same time. I glare at him.
“We’re friends,” I say again.
“Boy friend.”
I brush one of my curls out of my face. “We’re fake dating. Really it’s—”
“That what the kids call it these days?” Cooper chuckles.
“Call it what you want, Red.”
“This isn’t what we talked about,” I hiss under my breath, not wanting to fight in front of his mom and kinda dad? I don’t know.
“Is everything okay?” Cooper asks.
“We’re fine.” Van is short with him.
“I don’t mean with you two. I mean is everything fine?”
“I’ve got a handle on it,” Van responds.
“Oh, is there anything I can do?” Fischl asks, concern laced through her words.
“Van’s got it. He’ll ask if he needs help.” He kisses her on top of the head. “Come to bed.”
“’Night,” Fischl says as Cooper leads her away reluctantly, leaving us alone in the kitchen.
“They seem nice.”
“Told you my mom is an angel.” Cooper seems like a really nice guy. But like I said, I don’t really know him.
“Your dad, too.”
“He’s not my dad.”
“Right, sorry.” I want to say more about it, but I don’t. I hate when people try to get into my business. Not that it’s stopping Van any.
“You hungry?” Van changes the subject as he tucks the same curl that keeps falling into my face behind my ear. “Who am I kidding? You’re always hungry.” He drops a kiss on the top of my head. The same way Cooper did to his mom. I wonder if he realizes that he has some of the same mannerisms as his dad. “Sit.” He leads me over to one of the high-top chairs at the kitchen island, giving my ass a small smack on the way.
“I’m going to murder you.” I hop up into the chair. “After you feed me.” Van chuckles. We make small talk as I watch him heat up some lasagna.
“Your parents seem pretty cool about me just staying here for the night.”
“The weekend,” Van corrects.
“You’re relentless. You know that.” I moan when I taste the first bite of lasagna. I’ve never eaten better in my life until Van came into it. He’s always feeding me. When I glance up from my plate, Van is staring intensely at me. “What?” I wipe my mouth, thinking I might have something on it.
“You're moaning.” He reaches down and adjusts himself. I can feel my cheeks warm. Stupid fair skin always gives me away. I lick my lips. “Eat so we can go up to bed.”
I take another bite of my food. Does he mean upstairs because there is a guest bedroom? For some reason, I’m thinking not so much.
“You want more?” he asks when I clear my plate.
“I’m good.”
He quickly puts our dishes in the dishwasher before snagging my hand. His fingers tangle with mine. This really doesn’t feel fake. Maybe he just wants to get laid. Friends with benefits? Yeah, so not me. Sadly, my mother has made me fear casual sex. Hence why I’m still a virgin.