Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
I jump, my heart lodging in my throat when my phone rings. “Get it together,” I tell myself before I pull out my phone to answer it.
“I’m back!” Lucy chirps into the phone. I smile, having missed her. I’m so used to seeing her almost every day. She’s been away on her honeymoon for the last month. “Mr. Handsome still around?”
“Is that really the first thing you’re going to ask me?” I turn the lights off, heading toward the back.
“It’s been a month! I was sure he’d make a move by now.” She huffs.
“You think love is in the air because you’re madly in love.” I set the alarm before heading up the stairs.
Ryan and I have been living here for the past few years. It made things easier. Our dad’s place sits right outside the city, and I have to be here bright and early. Not that our dad is ever home anyway. I’m the one that’s been raising Ryan since Mom skipped town almost ten years ago. I’m only five years older than him. He’s a good kid. He’ll be graduating this year. It wasn't always easy, but we’ve made it work. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Love is always in the air.” She lets out a dreamy sigh. I shouldn't give her shit about her harping on me about Mr. Handsome. I did the same to her when it came to Wyatt—but in my defense, look at them now.
“Well, keep it out of my air. I don’t have time for love.”
“But you have time for me tomorrow?” she asks.
“Is Wyatt going to let you up for air long enough to come see me?” I tease her as I enter the house. Ryan is sitting on the sofa playing his Xbox already. I mouth to him I’m going to take a quick shower.
“I suppose,” I hear Wyatt say in the background.
“Bring pictures. I want to hear every detail about your vacation so I can live vicariously through you.” God knows traveling isn’t anywhere in my near future. I’ve never even been on a plane, let alone seen a real beach.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Laters,” I say before ending the call. I eye my bed, wanting to fall into it, but I know Ryan is waiting for me. So I do what I always do when it comes to him. I paste a smile on my face, knowing love will never be in the air for me.
Chapter Three
Miles
“Let me get this straight,” pants Dean during a break between racquetball sets. “Your caffeine levels are so high from drinking coffee every morning that you’re breaking out in hives, but rather than stop drinking coffee, you’re going to overdose on antihistamines.”
“I don’t know about the overdosing part, but the rest is spot-on.” I drive the rubber ball into the wall a few times and wait for Dean to catch his breath. The man is getting out of shape. I jog in place to stay warmed up.
“And this is all over a woman? That can’t be right. I know you have a line a mile deep waiting to get into your jock strap.”
“Sounds uncomfortable for me and them, and no, I don’t have a line. I don’t want a line. I’ve got my woman picked out.”
“Tell me about her.”
“Nah. I don’t think so. You’ve got a bad attitude toward women.” I frown at the smaller man. Has he always been this shitty toward the opposite sex? I don’t spend a lot of time with him. My regular racquetball partner, Mark, tore his ACL three weeks ago, and he’s laid up for like a year now. I’m cycling through randoms at the gym and haven’t found one that’s clicked yet. I mentally cross Dean off the list.
“Fuck, really?” Dean straightens. Wearing an incredulous expression, he plants his hands on his hips and rants, “You’re calling me out because I made an off-color joke about how in demand you are? You should be thanking me. It was a fucking compliment. You’re what’s wrong with the world now. Men like us should be proud we have dicks. Instead, we have to slink around with our hands over our crotches and bow and scrape before all these cu—”
I bang the ball an inch from his head. He stops abruptly.
“I wouldn’t say it if I were you.” I walk over to the bench, grab my towel and water bottle, and head for the exit.
“Hey. We’re in the middle of a match. You can’t leave! I’m going to report you to management! I’m going to—”
I don’t hear the rest of his diatribe because I do, indeed, leave. On my way out, I tell Karla that I insulted Dean and that he’s crying about it.
“Men are so fragile.” She shakes her head and writes something down. “Do you want me to revoke his membership?”