Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
“Avery’s right, guys. She was at the office for at least forty-five minutes. Honestly, it might’ve been a full hour.”
Avery flips me the bird, but the smile on her face is evidence of the truth. She doesn’t give a single shit about any of it, and I admit, it’s freaking impressive. She’s so secure in her personality, nothing can bring her down. Not her brother telling her she’s lazy or people thinking she’s shallow—she owns it.
“Oh!” Avery exclaims as she grabs an olive from the charcuterie board on the kitchen island and pops it into her mouth. “Beau! Tell June the good news!”
I look between Avery and Beau, confusion in my eyes and the dumbest intrusive thoughts about what the news could be jumping around my mind like ping-pong balls. That he also has a crush on me? That he’s in love with me and wants to marry me? That the sooner we get started making and having a million of his dark-haired, brown-eyed babies, the better?
Clearly, I have a problem.
“W-what’s the good news?” I say, clearing my throat as I do.
“My big brother is moving in to our building,” she says and walks over to wrap her arm affectionately around Beau’s shoulders. “He just can’t stand being away from his baby sister so much that he decided he needed to move closer to her.”
“Half of that’s true, Juni,” he says through a laugh.
“Uh…which half?”
“Seriously, June? I might miss you, but it’s a little hard to miss Avery,” he says, the words sending a zap of electricity from my cooch to my toes. The rational part of me knows he doesn’t actually miss me, but she’s currently being smothered by the irrational, mooning, far-too-hopeful girl with stars in her eyes. “But the part about me moving in to your building is true.”
“You…” I pause and clear my throat again to stop myself from asking about him missing me. It’s one thing to harbor delusion internally, but spewing it all over the Bankses’ countertops would be embarrassing. “You’re moving in to our building?”
“Yep,” he answers with a nod. “Since my house isn’t going to be ready in time for my lease expiration date, I made a few calls to your dad. He was kind enough to let me rent out one of the condos while I wait for the contractors to get their shit together.”
About six months ago, Beau purchased a fancy-schmancy mansion that overlooks the water on Biscayne Bay. It has a pool and a private dock, and I think about the comment he made about the hot tub the day he gave Avery and me the dime tour to this day.
“I’m excited about the hot tub, but I am definitely getting it cleaned. It’s one of the topmost-used locations for fucking, according to Google.”
I’d definitely fuck Beau in a hot tub. I’d fuck him in a paper bag if we could fit in it.
But yeah…the house. Right.
It requires a hell of a lot of reno, which is probably why it’s taking so long for him to be able to move in, but it’s gorgeous all the same. I know he’s proud of saving up and paying for it himself, and he should be. He’s one of the hardest workers I know.
“And,” Avery adds with a big smile. “not only is he in the same building—he’s our neighbor.”
“Our neighbor?” I question, my mind still buffering somewhere between Beau’s brown eyes and the thoughts of Beau fucking me in a hot tub.
“Yes! He rented the condo right next to ours,” she says. “Like, if we go out on our balconies at the same time, we’ll see each other. Stalk much, bro?” she teases with a roll of her eyes. “It’s like you’re obsessed with me or something.”
Beau chuckles. “It was the only unit available.”
The only unit available. Right next to ours. My first thought is one of elation.
My second is one of outright dismay as I watch Beau pull his phone out of his pocket to take a call.
“Hey,” Beau says, his voice sultry in just the way my mental spiral needs to nose-dive straight toward the ground.
As much as I wish he were, Beau is not my boyfriend. He’s not anyone’s boyfriend at the moment, but he’s also not lacking for female attention, as proven by what I know is a woman on the other end of his current call.
If Beau lives right next to us…so will a never-ending train of his hookups and their loud moans, potentially separated from my ears by nothing more than a wall.
Dear Judy Blume, it’s me, Juniper. Could you have Margaret get a line to God for me and do it pronto?
I know I’m twenty-three, but I think the thirteen-year-old girl inside me is about to have a coming-of-age tale she’ll never forget.
And her hero Beau won’t be around to dry her tears anymore either. He’ll be too busy banging bimbos while she listens.