Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“It’s complicated,” I replied. “But I appreciate your asking.”
He reached over and squeezed my shoulder. “Our parents are a little crazy. We have to stick together. Did I tell you Mom is freaking out that Alesha and I refuse to find out the baby’s gender? She wanted to have one of those reveal parties.”
I shook my head. That didn’t surprise me in the least.
“I don’t believe in those,” Alesha said.
“We’ve been telling her no for over a month. You’d think she’d let it go,” Phil added, just as I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket.
It was a text from Remy. Turn on channel five.
A weight dropped in my gut, and my pulse sped up. I told myself it couldn’t be something bad. He would have prepared me if it were, but I couldn’t control the nerves gnawing at me.
“What’s wrong?” Mere asked. “It’s Remy. He wants me to turn on the television.” I headed for the second living room, hoping there were less people there.
“Remy?” I heard Bruno say, telling me they were behind me.
Shit. I hadn’t meant to use his name.
When I got into the room, I turned on the large TV mounted on the wall, still feeling a bit queasy as I clicked for channel five.
It was the Casey Clark talk show. Goose bumps traveled the length of my arms. The show had just begun, the crowd clapping and cheering, and Casey made a few jokes, the usual opening of her hour-long show.
“Why did he want you to watch this?” Mere asked from beside me.
“I don’t know.” I didn’t turn away from the television, though. I couldn’t.
Casey Clark was saying, “We have a very special guest today. When I got the phone-call request, we switched things around in our regular scheduling because, well, first because when Remington makes a request, you say yes. God, that voice. And second because he has some very important topics to discuss today.”
The audience was cheering with the announcement of Remy.
“Oh God.” What was he doing? My legs were weak, and I sat down on the couch, riveted.
“Wait,” I heard Alesha say. “He said Remy texted… Did freaking Remington text your brother?”
“It’s looking that way,” Phil replied.
And then…then he was there, walking onstage. He looked…well, shit, he looked like Remy—old, faded jeans, a hole in the knee. But he wore a button-up shirt, and his hand went to the collar, tugged on it; obviously, he didn’t like anything but a tee. Seeing him do that made a smile stretch across my face.
Remy sat in one of the royal-blue chairs onstage, Casey in the other. His leg was bouncing up and down, and he was wringing his hands. It was clear he was nervous as hell.
They spent a few minutes talking about Remy’s music and his last album. I could see the difference in him, the tension beginning to ease some.
When they scanned the crowd, I saw his mom, siblings, and Brittany in the front row. His family I recognized from photos he used to show me. I didn’t know how I’d missed them before, and there was a moment of jealousy that tightened my chest.
“We all know you’re a very private person, Remington. You don’t ever discuss your personal life, who you’re dating and whatnot. Remington sightings are rare, and when they happen, the only person who is ever on your arm is Brittany Danvers.”
“Yeah, um.” Remy cleared his throat. “Brit is my best friend. And you’re right. I’m a private person. I, um…want to focus on my music. Really, that should be all that matters, but, um…”
“Oh God. He’s so nervous,” Mere said, grabbing my hand.
He was. Even without all the ums, that would have been obvious.
“What are you doing, Rem?” I asked softly.
“But I’ve been going through some things. Holding a lot inside. The weight was getting too heavy to carry. I felt like I was getting crushed under it, ya know? And it wasn’t hurting and affecting just me. It was doing the same to people I love. Not only that, but I, um…I felt like no one really knows me. Like I had to keep so many parts of myself hidden, and I…I couldn’t do it anymore. I never should have had to do it.”
They cut to a damn commercial break after that, and I nearly lost my mind. “Fuck!” I ran my hands through my hair, shoved to my feet, and began pacing back and forth in front of the television.
“What’s going on?” Phil asked, but I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I didn’t need this. If it was hard on Remy, I didn’t want him to have to do this for me, not so publicly.
When the show came back on, I sat down again, my leg bouncing too, somehow in sync with Remy’s.
“What have you kept hidden?” Casey asked.