Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
“Hold, hold, hold,” he said, flapping my hand away. “It gets better. Wait for it.”
Rhianna’s voice began to croon, with Eminem’s following soon after. I glared at my asshole cousin. “‘Love the Way You Lie’? Really? Are you trying to make me open the truck door and dive into fucking traffic?”
His familiar chuckle was comforting despite my annoyance. “I made a playlist for you. I didn’t know I’d get to play it for you on a road trip, but life is always full of unexpected good shit, isn’t it?”
Was it? I remembered I used to think that, but the memory felt faint and old.
Selena Gomez began singing “Bad Liar,” so I grabbed his phone, yanked out the cord, and threw it behind us, deep into the bowels of the food truck. The silence lasted a beat before I could have sworn the tinny sound of Beyoncé and Shakira’s “Beautiful Liar” made its way out of the shadows.
“I hate you,” I said.
“Don’t diss the Queen.” He glanced over at me, twin lines of concern marred the space between his messy brows. “I hope you know the way home because that phone was our navigator.”
After I pulled up the nav on my own phone and connected it to his cable, I closed my eyes in hopes of catching some sleep.
That lasted less than three seconds before my cousin nudged me. Hard.
“Nah, nah, nah. No sleeping until you spill.”
“Don’t wanna,” I murmured without opening my eyes. “Tired.”
“Oh, you don’t wanna. I see.” His oddly soft voice trailed off before he barked, “Too bad, cuz! I stayed up late last night watching a hot twink get dicked down by a pair of gym bros, and I’m about to fall asleep at the wheel if you don’t give me something to stay awake for.”
My eyes flew open, and I stared at him in shock. “G-gym bros? Dicked down?” I shook my head, fighting off my fatigue. “What happened to the Sandwich Shark? What happened to Chloe? What happened to you being straight?”
His mouth widened in a gotcha grin. “Woke your ass up, now, didn’t I?”
“Wait. Was that all a lie? Are you straight?”
“Bro. It’s a new millennium here. I like to think of myself as free from the encumbrance of labels.”
“Uh. Okay. But, like, you and Chloe…”
He shrugged a little dejectedly. “Chloe likes to think of herself as free from the encumbrance of me.”
“Ouch.” I reached over and gently punched his shoulder with my knuckles. “But wait, the gym bros…”
He waved this off. “It was some high-quality porn. And my story time will come later. It’s your turn now. And I made a mad dash to your rescue, princess, so you can at least tell me why.”
I sighed and told him what happened, leaving out graphic details with a mumbled “And then we hooked up” before continuing on to the reasons I’d left and the fact that Bash had tried to reach out.
“I’m thinking it’s time for me to grow up,” I concluded. “To stop wasting time with this project, once and for all. This is not gonna end happily.”
Joey held up a finger. “Okay, pause. First, if the musician you’re talking about is Zee Barlo, we’re going to put a giant pin in that for later discussion. And put a pin in the hookup thing, too.”
“Right next to the pin for the gym bros?”
Joey ignored me. “Now, let’s focus on the part of the story where my favorite cousin, Rowe, Aunt Muriel’s li’l baby cupid—”
“Oh, Jesus, do not bring that up.”
“—decided he wanted to be a sad sack of self-pity and bullshit excuses.”
I shot him a glare. “That’s not what I said.”
“You sure? ’Cause that’s what I heard you say. Walking away from your business idea because of a setback—?”
“It was a little more than a setback,” I said angrily. “Did you hear the part where I failed to talk to Justin Hardy, my last hope? And I can’t ask Bash for contacts, Joey. I refuse. I don’t want him to think this was all about using him.”
“So we find another way! Dude. Dude. We’re Princes, and Princes don’t quit. This is the part where the story is getting good.”
I shook my head. “I’m out of ideas, Joey. I’m out of money. I’m out of… energy. And I feel like shit for lying. This isn’t quitting. It’s moving on.”
“Nope. Unacceptable. You’ve got at least one more try in you.”
I leaned back into the lumpy headrest, stared out the windshield, and groaned. “You don’t know that. I’ve contacted so many people already. It’s not that easy.”
He huffed out a laugh. “No, you know what’s not easy? Doing a backflip while holding a tiny guitar and a bag of burritos. But some of us manage it.”
I blinked at the road for a moment, then turned fully in my seat and gawked at him. “A backflip? What the hell?”