Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
“I get the feeling you’re going to learn this for yourself. Things are changing for him. You should be open to who he truly is. Allow him to show you that, my dear.”
I go to respond, but my phone rings. Looking down, I see it’s Sheldon. I sigh and get ready to send it to voicemail, but I want out of this awkward conversation more than anything.
“Um, I need to take this,” I mutter.
“You go on, I’ll be right over here,” she says and strolls off.
“Hello,” I say as I answer the call.
“Hey there, beautiful. I was beginning to think you were blowing me off. How are you?”
“Hi, Sheldon. I’m fine and you?”
“I can’t complain. Work life has been busy. I think it’s time for some play. How about we go out for dinner? I would love to be in your company,” he says smoothly.
“Oh, that would be great, but I can’t this weekend. I have a ton of work to catch up on.”
He sighs into the line. I bite my lip wondering if I should just call things off. I glance toward Tessa and decide against it.
Sheldon is safe. He doesn’t need his mother to convince me of that. I shake the thought off.
“Maybe next weekend,” I say.
“I look forward to it. I’ll give you a call to check in?”
“Yeah, cool.”
“Talk to you later, Reminisce. It was good to hear your voice.”
“Later, Sheldon.”
Knight
I grab a beer from the fridge in my brother’s condo. Prince asked me to come over to talk. About what? I have no idea. I’m not usually the first one he goes to for advice.
“What’s on your mind?” I say as I walk over to the couch he’s sitting on.
He has paint on his cheek and hands. That’s nothing new, but the look in his eyes is. Something is on his mind.
“I need a favor, but I thought we could hang for a bit too. I feel like we don’t hang enough. You’re my little brother. I should know more about your life,” he says.
“Not much to know. Especially not these days.” I shrug.
“What’s that about?”
I sigh and take a gulp of my beer. “Can’t talk about it.”
“You know, I thought you were joking when you said you wanted to be a cop. I mean, with our wealth and all the doors Mom and Dad have opened to us, I couldn’t see why you would want to put yourself out there like that.”
“It felt like the right thing to do for me,” I reply.
“I get that. Believe me I do. I also get that you feel like you’re making a difference. You’ve always stood up for the little guys.”
“Someone has to. Getting picked on made me want to do more for others.
“Yeah, we gave you a ton of shit. Sorry about that, man.”
I wave him off. I got over it. They were just as bad with each other as they were with me. I think at some point, we all became desensitized to the drama that comes with having three brothers.
“Do you remember that time when I kept giving you shit?”
I snort. “Which time? You’re always giving me shit. I think you gave me a wedgie with my diaper on the day I was born.”
“Shut the fuck,” he laughs. “I’m talking about that time when you earned all our respect. The day you made us proud of our little brother.”
I knit my brows as I look at him. I’m not sure when he’s talking about. Although I’m curious to know when I made my brothers proud of me. I know they love me, but I can’t say I can name a time when they’ve told me they were proud of me.
“I’m talking about Kimmie Dickens,” he says.
I knit my brows. I remember Kimmie, but I’m not sure how one of the most embarrassing moments in my life could have made him or anyone else proud of me.
“As your big brothers, what we love about you is the fact that you’re never anyone’s victim. Not only that, but you always make things right,” Prince says.
“Okay,” I drag out. “I still don’t get what Kimmie Dickens has to do with anything. You pantsed me in front of my crush while I was already trying to hide my boner from her.
“What about that made you proud? We were in the middle of a fucking pool party with half the high school there. Bro, I was on the verge of fucking tears,” I say in annoyance.
“Not that you had shit to be embarrassed about. Girls were chasing you down after that, not that they weren’t checking you before seeing what you were packing,” he says smugly.
“Whatever,” I mumble.
“I did feel bad after. I was sure you were going to tell Mom on me. We weren’t supposed to take you to a high school party with us in the first place. You wouldn’t speak to me or Lord for weeks.