Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
I cock my head. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with wanting to spy on Nate while you look really cute in your pink sweater, would it?”
She snorts. “No. Ew. I don’t care what Nate is doing. Nate is my past. I hardly think about him at all anymore.” She lifts her nose higher in the air. “I actually forgot his bar was anywhere near the hippy shop.”
“Right. That’s why you’re on a sex cleanse. Because you’ve forgotten all about the ex who ghosted you like a big coward.”
“He is a big coward,” she agrees, her voice heating the way it does whenever Nate’s name is mentioned. “And stupid. We live in the same small town and his stupid bar is in the middle of stupid Main Street. I couldn’t avoid walking past it if I tried. And why should I have to try? I’m not some immature goob, who can’t end a relationship with class and dignity. I’m a grown-up, who can say ‘hey, I don’t like you anymore, but let’s be friends or maybe just civil to each other when we run into each other at the grocery store, okay?’ But no. He has to be all dramatic and look through me like I’m a poltergeist. Or wearing an invisibility cloak or something. Which I would never do because that’s sneaky and weird and I’m not sneaky or weird. I’m a very normal woman, who just wanted to talk about where our relationship was going. There’s nothing strange or ghosting-worthy about that.”
“Absolutely not,” I agree, wanting to punch Nate for the hundredth time. If he knew Tessa at all, he’d realize how much she needs closure.
But then, maybe he does know, and this is his twisted way of ensuring he still has power over her even now that their toxic relationship has come to an end.
She continues in a calmer voice, “Right. But that has nothing to do with my sex cleanse. I’m on a sex cleanse because boys are gross and getting naked with someone new is stressful. I’m almost forty, and I’ve been comfort baking since November. My belly is not anywhere near flat and probably never will be.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” I say. “You’re gorgeous and you run 5Ks all the time.”
“Slowly. And I have beer after,” she says, looking ashamed of herself.
“So what? You’re perfect. You don’t have to be a size 2 to be worthy of love and passion and orgasms.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Says the woman who’s a size 2.”
“I’m a genetic runt. I can’t help it. Matty sucked all the nutrients away from me in the womb.”
“I did not,” comes a deep voice from the front of the kitchen. I turn to see my brother standing there with his dark brows pulled into a judgmental V and laugh.
“Hey, you, shouldn’t you be at the high school, educating tomorrow’s thought leaders?” These days, Matty is a French teacher. He used to be a spy, but only a few people know that part of his past. It’s just me, Nora, Aaron, and our friend, Bear, in fact. The rest of my family thinks he turned his “bad boy” lifestyle around in the nick of time. They’re still proud of him, but not as proud as I am.
But I admit I am a tad biased, being his twin an all.
That doesn’t stop me from giving him shit, though. “I thought slacking was against your moral code.”
He arches a brow. “I’m not slacking. It’s a half day for professional development. I decided I would professionally develop more effectively if I shared a coffee and slice of cake with my sister, but maybe not. Not if you’re still telling people the ‘my twin brother tried to eat me in the womb’ story.”
I laugh again, because teasing him never gets old. “I can’t help it that you were a cannibalistic fetus.”
He rolls his eyes and mutters, “Cannibalistic fetus. You’re a piece of work.”
“And you’re still my favorite brother, no matter what,” I say, moving toward the walk-in fridge. “What kind of cake do you want? I have red velvet and black forest, but I also have plain vanilla cupcakes and an apple-cranberry pie.”
“Red velvet,” he says. “Always and forever.”
“I’m leaving before I get sucked into eating more dessert,” Tessa says, grabbing her coat from the hook by the back door. “I’ll hit the hippy store for ghost supplies and be back in an hour. Bye, Matty!”
“Bye,” Matty says, arching a brow when she’s gone. “Ghost supplies?”
I set the cake on one of the food prep tables and wave a hand. “It’s nothing. Aaron rented the witch house for us for the next two weeks. It’s all fixed up and beautiful now, but Tessa and I started talking about how creepy it used to be and decided a sage stick or something might be in order.”