Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Reaching into the backseat, I grab my jacket and pull it on before zipping it up, giving myself a little extra padding to conceal Zoey’s gift while hoping like fuck I don’t get sprung before I get to give this to her. She’s going to be so excited. She’s always begged her parents for one, but luckily for her, they can’t exactly say no right now.
Reaching down, I grab her present and place it onto my lap before making sure I have my phone and keys. Then I grab the single tulip off my dashboard before wrestling her present beneath my shirt and deciding this will have to do.
I make quick work of getting out of my car and hurrying across the lot, knowing my luck is bound to run out at some point. Then almost in a sweat, I sign in at the reception desk, hoping like fuck this thing stays quiet. After a weird look from the nurse behind the desk, I race down the hall to get to Zoey’s room.
Barging through her door a moment later, a stupid grin stretches across my face as I spy her sitting up in bed with her laptop open, busily typing away. I can’t help but notice how much weight she’s been losing or the dark circles beneath her beautiful eyes, but I would never point it out.
The second Zoey glances up and takes me in, her gaze narrows. “You look shady as hell, Noah Ryan,” she tells me, suspicion thick in her tone. “Spill it. What are you hiding?”
“Nothing,” I say slowly, kicking the door shut behind me as I creep across her room.
She watches me like an assassin, never taking her eyes off her mark. “Your pockets are bulging like crazy, and you’re wearing the jacket you put in the back of your car that you never use. Plus, whatever you’ve got hidden under there is making you look like you’ve been hitting the gym way too hard and suddenly sprouted ridiculous-sized pecs. Or you got a botched boob job, and if that’s the case, you should be asking for your money back.”
“Ha. Ha,” I say, rolling my eyes as she closes her laptop, offering me her undivided attention. “I’m glad to see the chemo hasn’t burned that sarcasm out of your system.”
“Great news, isn’t it?” she says, her gaze falling back to my torso with a deep curiosity, but when I don’t go to show her, she loses her patience. “Just give it to me already. You’re killing me. You know I can’t handle surprises.”
I laugh and make my way around her bed before propping my ass on the side. “You need to be aware that having this here is definitely going to get us in trouble,” I warn her before handing her the tulip between my fingers, something I’ve started doing every single day to the point her room is flooded with them. “But I couldn’t resist.”
Her brows furrow, her gaze shifting back to mine, as she holds the tulip in her lap, and with that, I loosen my hold around my jacket and pull open the neckline of my shirt before peering down and taking in the big eyes staring back at me. “Come on,” I say, a wide smile stretching across my face as Zoey’s brand-new ragdoll kitten walks right up my chest and pops her head out through the neckline.
Zoey gasps, her eyes going wide as her kitten looks back at her, the two of them meeting each other’s stare. The second they do, it’s like the planets align, and the kitten jumps right out of my shirt and scrambles across the bed, not stopping until she’s purring in Zoey’s lap.
“Holy shit,” Zoey breathes, scooping the tiny thing up into her arms, tears welling in her beautiful green eyes. “How did you know? I’ve always wanted a ragdoll.”
“Zo,” I laugh, giving her a pointed stare. “I know everything there is to know about you. I’ve been there on at least ten different occasions where you’ve begged your parents for one and then had to deal with the fallout when they said no.”
She grins, knowing exactly what I’m talking about, but it quickly fades away as she glances back down at the kitten. “Thank you,” she says. “I love her, but . . . maybe my parents were right to say no. What if I don’t . . . You know, who will . . .”
“I don’t want you worrying about that,” I tell her. “I’ve already cleared it with your parents, and I talked to Hazel. She says if that were to happen, and that’s a big if because it’s not going to happen, then she will look after her.”
“Really?” she asks with wide eyes. “I really get to be a kitten momma?”
“Yeah, Zo. You’re a kitten momma.”