Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Dre was talking with someone but I can’t see who the fuck it was and I didn’t care. I was still checking out Dre and not believing she was really there. She still bites the side of her thumb too and if you looked at her from the wrong angle it almost seems as if she’s sucking on it which makes my useless dick twitch for the first time in eons.
Something about her having the same little quirks made me feel like I wasn’t so out of the loop, although I knew when my inspection of Dre landed on the sparkling diamond on her left hand that out of the loop is a fucking understatement.
I suppress a laugh, still not wanting her to know I was conscious just yet when I realize that she’s talking to Smoke and he’s wearing a full police uniform. Fuck knows what that was about but what tickled me as funny was that his name badge said Wiggum. I wait until he’s gone before saying, “Wiggum. Chief Wiggum is the police chief on the Simpsons.”
“Good, you’re awake. What were you doing on the water tower?” she asked, smoothing my hair from my face. I want to lean into her touch but instead I flinch, a little reflex I picked up courtesy of Chop and she withdrew her hand.
I flashed her the biggest smile I could, forgetting about my missing tooth. I must have looked a mess. “I...” I started, not really remembering why I was there in the first place, but when the memory hits and I recall the party. The ring. The backstreet boy I knocked out. THE KISS. I decide to go with the truth. Sort of. “I was looking for you.”
“Were you trying to jump?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest like she was both pissed and disappointed, but I couldn’t linger on that because the motion pushed her tits up over the neckline of her shirt and suddenly I hated the inch or so of cotton hiding what I knew to be perfect pink nipples from me.
“No, but I might have been screaming a little. Okay, a lot. Someone must have called the cops about the lunatic on the water tower and they hauled me in thinking I was going to take the long leap to nowhere.”
“But you weren’t?” she asked, like she was making sure.
“No, Doc,” I reassured her. She nodded and breathed out slowly, like she’d been holding her breath. “One of the officers must have gotten a little punchy,” I said, feeling the knot on my forehead. “Fucker.”
“King and Bear are in the waiting room. I’ll go tell them you’re ready to go home,” she said standing up.
I grabbed her wrist and she sat back down. “No, Doc. I can’t go back there. It’s too.” I stopped. “It’s just too...everything.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“With you,” I said, pleading with my eyes. “I want to go with you.”
“Preppy...” she started, looking down at her lap. “That’s not a good idea.”
“Because you’re engaged?” I asked sounding more bitter than I intended. “‘Cause married people can’t get engaged, unless the rules have changed. Shit, everything else has changed. Wouldn’t surprise me.”
“No, because I’m not even going to be here long. I’m going home to help my dad the second the house sells and the realtor thinks that could be really soon. And I’m not—”
“Okay, so I’ll only stay until it sells or until you go home.”
Basically, I’ll just be there for as long as you’re there.
“Preppy,” Dre said, sounding unconvinced. I was going to have to bring out the big guns.
“As your husband on record, don’t I have to sign off on the sale?” I asked.
Doc straightened her spine, “Wait, what?”
“Even if it’s on a technicality we’re married, right? The house would be considered our marital property, therefore I’d have to sign off on the sale regardless of who’s name the house is in.”
“Fuck,” Dre mouthed when she realized I was right. It was adorable when she swore.
“Sounds good. Maybe later. Right now I’m just looking for you to say, ‘yes, Preppy, I’d love for you to come and stay with me for a while.’”
“So...you’re blackmailing me?” Doc asked.
I smiled. “Abso-fucking-lutley.”
DRE
“That’s the kid you’re fucking?” Preppy asked, pointing to the screen saver on my phone. It was a picture of me and Brandon at my college graduation. I graduated in three years and had a big smile on my face. Brandon was holding up my diploma like it was a trophy.
For me, it kind of was.
“Excuse me?” I snatched my phone from his hand and pushing it into my back pocket. “He’s not a kid,” I argued.
“Oh yeah? Could have fooled me. He looks like Zach Effron or a backstreet boy circa 1997. I mean, come on, Doc, he doesn’t even have any facial hair. I bet he hasn’t sprouted any pubes yet either, looks a little too young for that. What kind of man doesn’t have any fucking facial hair?”