Total pages in book: 220
Estimated words: 212755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1064(@200wpm)___ 851(@250wpm)___ 709(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 212755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1064(@200wpm)___ 851(@250wpm)___ 709(@300wpm)
He was so smart.
“Yes.” That was right. “That’s later. With the sharks.”
I’d seen that on TV.
Uncle Cohen started to tell us how wonderfully we’d done, but then Emerson looked up from his phone. “Can someone tell my owner where he left his doll? He’s very confused about where he put me.”
Huh?
For some reason, Uncle Cohen laughed so hard he had to sit down.
Had he been drinking slushies too?
I looked around but couldn’t see his drink. Had he drunk mine? Lane’s? Well, the first rule of sleepovers was no slushying and driving, so he had to spend the night too.
Emerson was going to like that.
When Uncle Cohen was sitting and shaking his head, he reached for the phone. “Let me text him the address…and probably an explanation for whatever you just sent.”
He was so helpful.
I was going to tell him that…later? Yes, later after he was done texting and giggling. Phones were funny? He was so smart, something had to be funny. Yes.
Sitting down, since it seemed like we were all sitting again, I crawled over to Emerson. “Is your owner picking you up? Did he lose you? How did he do that? Don’t you have a tag on or something?”
I started searching him, but I couldn’t find anything.
That just wasn’t safe.
Maybe we should get one for Emerson? Like they did for luggage? He was more important than luggage. “Your owner is very protective of you, so I think you need a tag.”
Emerson sighed, clearly frustrated with the situation. “I know. He needs to be able to track me, but he said he wasn’t a stalker.”
“That’s very sad.” I gave him a hug and then cuddled up to him so he wouldn’t pout. “You’re very important to him. He’ll stalk you soon. It’s okay.”
Uncle Cohen snorted and then fell back on the floor.
I poked Emerson and whispered. “I think he had a slushy already. Did you feed him?”
Kenton frowned and crawled over to Uncle Cohen. “We haven’t given him any water. He’s going to dehydrate.”
Uncle Cohen was so dehydrated he sighed.
Kenton was worrying about how to fix Uncle Cohen, but Lane was very helpful. “Remember. We put lots of ice in the slushies. He’ll be fine. He’s just dramatic. Like Eli.”
For some reason that just made Uncle Cohen groan, but he sat up, so maybe Lane was right? “Show me how to play the game while we wait for Emerson’s owner.”
Yay.
Playing was so much fun…but what were the rules again?
Hmm. Maybe that was why Emerson was naked?
****
“No.” Uncle Cohen’s stern voice sent a shiver through me and I was very glad he’d said no naked rules for the game. I was too hard for that. But remembering the rules was hard. “I’m very sure Emerson got naked for another reason entirely. It couldn’t have been about the board game.”
He was very serious…and said he was sober…so that meant he was probably right, didn’t it?
Even Lane couldn’t defend Kenton’s logic. “He might be right, Kenton. We’ll figure out another way to start the wars.”
Yes, there had to be another way.
But before we could figure it out, something buzzed.
Oh, the doorbell.
Having Uncle Cohen here was wonderful. He was sober enough to answer the door and he wasn’t naked.
Wait.
Who was at the door?
“Did you order pizza?” I looked over at Emerson and frowned. “We aren’t supposed to do that once sleepover nights start. Tony said we scared the drivers.”
They were easily startled.
One naked man and they panicked.
Tony, the owner, said it was hard to get good workers these days.
“I don’t think so.” Emerson looked at Lane and Kenton. “Did they?”
That was a good question.
“Oh, maybe Cohen did?” I tried to look backward, but somehow I tipped over. “Uncle Cohen, did you buy pizza? Make sure Tony knows we didn’t come to the door. Oh, and tell him Emerson has all his clothes on. He’ll like that.”
I started to get up and tell Emerson to stop giggling or he’d ruin the lie, but then a man walked in with Uncle Cohen.
A big man.
Emerson jumped up so fast his dick danced. “Owner.”
He looked at us and beamed. “It’s my owner.”
Oh, that was wonderful. “Congratulations on having sex, Emerson’s Owner.”
I’d remembered.
I was so polite, Uncle Cohen even smiled like I’d done a good job.
Owner was probably very glad too, but he was distracted by Emerson and sighed as he folded his arms over his big chest. He was Daddy-sized and frowning, and I couldn’t decide if Emerson was in trouble or not. “Why are you naked?”
Emerson stopped, then looked down and shrugged. “I don’t know? I think it was in the rules, but Uncle Cohen said he’s not getting naked, so we might have to change them.”
Big Owner looked over at Uncle Cohen and nodded. “Thank you for the address and for keeping your clothes on.”
For some reason, Uncle Cohen rolled his eyes. “I just got here.”