Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Ky grinned. “Honest.”
“I’m bummed. I hate it.” I stepped away with a sigh before settling against the wall beside him. “I wouldn’t change it now. They don’t belong together anymore. I’m glad they’re the best of friends and that we’ve created a new kind of family. It’s not the three of us, the way it was when I was small. Now we have Oliver…and Justin. And maybe someday my dad will meet someone, and we’ll make room again. It’s good, but it’s not the way I thought it would be.”
“What’d you want? A fairy tale?”
“Yeah. With two princes,” I replied. “Sadly, life is not a fairy tale. It’s a messed-up collision of personalities, timing, and circumstance. You never know what you’ll have to combat next, so you’d better be ready for anything.”
“I one hundred percent agree. But I kinda figured you’d have a more optimistic outlook on life.”
“Oh, I do. I’m an eternal optimist! But I’m not an idiot. I don’t believe in miracles or fairy tales anymore. That doesn’t mean I don’t want one to happen. I’d love nothing more than to have my own fairy tale someday. But I’m not willing to spend a buck on that lottery ticket,” I snarked. “What about you? Are your parents divorced?”
Ky nodded. “Yeah, but that was no fuckin’ fairy tale. I don’t want to talk about it. You’re more interesting anyway. You do know that most kids assume everyone in the world has a dad and a mom. Why did you want to be different?”
“I didn’t want to be different. It’s just what I knew. But I could say that about almost everything about me. I’m different. I might be vertically challenged, but I stand out like a pregnant pole vaulter or the bald man who gets cast in Hair. It’s not funny, it’s true,” I insisted, grinning when he slapped his knee and guffawed.
“You’re a weirdo,” he said affectionately. “Are you saying you never wanted to do what all the other kids in school were doing? Join the football team, ask the prettiest girl out?”
“Sure. It just never went according to plan. I was too short and skinny to play football, but I tried out to do the kick in junior high school ’cause I had a crazy crush on Andy Foster. He was the quarter person.”
“Huh? You mean you were the kicker and he was the quarterback?”
I waved dismissively. “Maybe. But I didn’t get the part. Turns out the kicker guy has to practically do the fucking splits to get the ball to the other side of the park. Do you have any idea how far that is?”
“Yeah, it’s a hundred yards,” he replied matter-of-factly. “And it’s called a field, not a park.”
“Well, that’s ridiculous. I told them so too. And I’m pretty sure Andy suggested I try out for the cheer squad instead. So I did. I had a big problem with the costumes and the cheers, though. And I was also extremely jealous of Chelsea Mulder. She was tall and pretty with long blonde hair. All the boys liked her, including Andy. I thought if I got her to notice me, maybe he’d notice me too. But I didn’t know how to flirt with a girl. To this day, I can’t figure it out. I complimented her braids and told her they’d be prettier if she tightened them. Next thing you know, I’m doing Chelsea’s hair at recess and giving her fashion tips. I couldn’t seduce my way out of a wet paper bag. Not a woman anyway. Men are a whole other story,” I said, waggling my eyebrows lasciviously.
Ky snickered. “How so?”
“I just know what to do and what to say.”
“Oh, yeah? Give me an example. Seduce me.”
I narrowed my eyes suspiciously and held his gaze, but when he didn’t blink or back down, I decided to play along. I straightened from the wall and stood in front of him.
“Okay. Pretend we don’t know each other. Ready?” I waited for him to nod; then I bit my bottom lip and stepped closer. “What’s your name?”
“Ky.”
“Ky,” I repeated slowly, somehow expanding the two letters into a sentence. “What do you do for fun?”
“I play bass in a band and um…I skateboard and hang out with friends.”
“Why the bass?”
“Uh…well, I thought it was an easy instrument to fake play when I wanted to join a band in high school. Turned out I was wrong. You can’t fake the bass. It’s arguably the most important instrument and—what are you doing?”
I stepped between his open legs and brushed a strand of hair behind his ear. “Nothing. I’m listening to your story. Go on. I’m fascinated,” I purred.
Ky caught my wrist and furrowed his brow. “So you just pretend to be interested and then…what?”
I smiled. “I move in for the kill. See, guys love to talk about themselves. And they love unexpected questions.”