Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“No, sit here, Jonas.” He directed Jonas to a different chair, closer to him and a good six seats from me. “Our new guy, Percy, came with me and is in the restroom. I’ve been wanting you to meet him. He’s around our age. Divorced.”
I hated this Percy already, and something of my dislike must have shown on my face because Eric turned back toward me.
“Don’t worry. Some other friends are coming too. Tennessee and Tate should be here later, along with your dad and Denver.”
“Great.” I loved being the odd person out in Couple Central. Just peachy. And Percy was old, older than Eric and Jonas, probably closer to fifty, with silver hair and a tall, lanky frame that made him look more like a sheriff than a paramedic. He had a loud laugh and kind eyes, and I wanted to spear him with my fork. My hands kept clenching and I had to grit my teeth as he chatted Jonas up because what the hell could I do?
Run over there and declare my undying love? Hang a Keep Off sign around his neck? A line from an older pop tune about the value of rings popped into my brain. I was staring at Jonas’s left hand while imagining a series of terrible fates for Percy when my dad and his massive boyfriend, Denver, finally arrived.
They greeted everyone before settling down near me. Lovely. I forced a smile.
“How was PT?” Dad asked as he arranged his coat on the back of his chair.
“Fucking wonderful.” Okay. Apparently, my ability to fake happiness was limited at best.
“Lan—” Dad started to correct me before he apparently remembered I was way over twenty-one and spent the whole damn racing season around dudes who spoke solely in curse words. “Was PT that bad?”
“I hate everything about PT.” My bleak mood made me far more honest than usual. “We’re working on getting more range of motion back in my foot and leg, but all the concentration makes my head hurt. Then, the migraine makes it harder to do the exercises and keep my balance. It’s an endless cycle of suck.”
“Maybe I could help you find a different PT—”
“Lauren’s great.” I waved away that notion. “It’s not her fault my fucking brain won’t cooperate.”
“Lauren, huh? I think I’ve seen her a couple of times around the hospital. Your age? Cute? Lets you call her by her first name…” Dad trailed off meaningfully. “Better not go getting a crush.”
I released a pained noise. “Dad. Please.”
“Sorry. I was just teasing. I’ll shut up.” Dad sat a little straighter like maybe Denver had kicked his foot.
I shot Denver a grateful look and gentled my tone. “Sorry, I’m cranky.”
“You okay?” Dad kept the dad-ing coming. “Is the headache that bad?”
“Nah. I’m fine.” I busied myself with studying the drink menu because no way was I going to complain more. The last thing I wanted was for Dad to suggest I leave early. I needed to keep an eye on Jonas and Percy.
Eventually, everyone ordered drinks and food. Big platters of appetizers arrived, but I had no appetite for deep-fried goodies. Every time Percy made Jonas laugh, my stomach turned. A young DJ with long blond hair and numerous piercings introduced the various singers, trying to get audience engagement through some awkward questions and games.
I exhaled hard when Rowan finally performed because we were that much closer to being done with the evening. However, Rowan was also by far the best performer, singing some recent pop tunes with a clear high tenor and engaging style.
“Hey, Eric. He’s really good,” my dad called down the table. Rowan took a bow before escaping to a table full of similar-aged young people drinking sodas and eating giant baskets of sweet potato fries.
“He is.” Eric nodded proudly as the applause for Rowan died off. “And all of a sudden, he seems so much older and more mature.”
“Parenting, man. It hits you in the nads when you least expect it.” An older dude in a black T-shirt with the bar’s logo stopped by our table while holding a tray with a couple of beers.
“It does,” my dad agreed with the waiter guy. “Great place you’ve got here, Magnus.”
Ah. Not a waiter. Magnus must be the owner, which would make him the dad of Diesel, the friend of Maren’s that I’d heard far too much about the last few weeks from gossipy Rowan. Magnus was attractive in that older guy way with muscles and tats. Not the typical type I noticed, but ever since I’d started fooling around with Jonas, I found myself picking up more on which dudes might be into dudes and also letting myself acknowledge when someone was hot. And since he wasn’t hitting on Jonas, I liked him way more than Percy.
“Everything okay here?” Magnus asked Eric.