Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
He hasn’t reached out since.
Part of me appreciates the fact that he’s respected my request for space. He’s always polite when we do interact. Always friendly but never too friendly.
And then part of me wants to grab him by the shirt collar and yank him in for a hard, hot kiss.
What the fuck is wrong with you? I’d breathe into his mouth. Why won’t you chase me any harder?
Because that’s not messed up at all, me wanting him to pursue me despite my very clear instructions to leave me alone.
“Ha. No cowboys, Mom.” I’m hit by a vicious swirl of nausea. I put my hand over my mouth. Really, what’s going on? Did I catch a stomach bug or something?
“You know, it’s important that you take the time to stop and smell the Stetsons. I mean roses.”
“You’re funny,” I manage.
“I’m okay, Wheeler.” Another pause. “Really. I want you to keep living your life. I know it’s not easy to forget about what’s going on with me and Dad, but…” She sighs. “It’ll all work out, so you shouldn’t put your life on pause. Your love life, I mean.”
I wish I could believe that things will work out. Just like I wish I could stop feeling like I’m going to throw up.
“Hey, Mom? I have to run. But let me know how your meeting with the mediator goes tomorrow, okay? I’ll be thinking about you.”
“Okay. Congrats again on your collection.”
You didn’t congratulate me the first time, but whatever. I wish our relationship weren’t so…complicated.
“Thanks. Love you.”
I hang up and sit on the edge of the bed. The mattress dips, making my stomach slosh. A fist of sudden, violent pressure darts up my throat.
Holy shit, I really am going to puke.
Lurching off the bed, I dash for the bathroom. I make it to the toilet just in time to lose the contents of my stomach with a pair of awful, heaving retches.
Tears prick my eyes. The acidic taste of bile fills my mouth. I retch again and again, my arms shaking as I prop them on the toilet seat.
What the actual fuck?
“Wheeler?” Mollie’s voice sounds from the bedroom.
I retch again.
She must hear me, because the next thing I know, she’s flying into the bathroom, her brown eyes going wide when she sees me hovering over the toilet.
“Wheeler, oh my God! Are you okay?”
“I have no idea what’s going on with me.” I fall to my knees in front of the toilet, one leg at a time. “I think I might’ve eaten something bad. Does anyone have the stomach bug? Maybe Ella brought it home from preschool.”
Mollie shakes her head. “No one is sick. Not that I know of anyway. And we’ve all been eating the same stuff…”
I notice the pair of deep furrows on her forehead.
Falling back onto my butt, I’m overwhelmed by just how miserable I feel. “This is so weird. And awful.”
Despite her growing bump, Mollie leans down to run a hand over my back. “Do you want some water? Maybe some crackers? I’m kind of an expert on what to eat when you feel like ass.”
Mollie’s in her second trimester now. But she was pretty sick during the first part of her pregnancy, the “morning” sickness they warned her about lasting all day and sometimes into the night too.
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep anything down.” I wince when I’m hit by another wave of what I can only describe as sea sickness.
The furrows in Mollie’s brow deepen. Her hand goes still. “Okay, I don’t mean to freak you out—”
“Oh God, what?”
“But your little weekend getaway with Duke was, what, three weeks ago?”
Mollie knows all about what went down in Aspen. She may be married to Duke’s brother, but she’s also my best friend. I don’t think it’s a stretch to say she knows everything about me.
Really, she’s comprised almost the entirety of the support system I’ve needed after losing the one I had in my family.
Pulse going haywire, I swallow a rush of bile that floods my mouth. “A little more than that, yeah.”
“Have you gotten your period?”
“I’m supposed to get it any minute.”
“Y’all were careful, right?”
“Of course we were careful. I’m on the—”
The words die in my throat. Wait a second.
Wait.
Did I accidentally miss taking a pill?
My brain scrambles to comb through the details of the sex-soaked forty-eight hours I spent in Aspen. I have an alarm set on my phone that goes off at the same time every morning as a reminder to take my birth control pill. I definitely took my pill the day we drove to Colorado; I remember popping it into my mouth during a restroom stop. But the next day…
My stomach takes a swan dive. I obviously stayed in Duke’s room that night. When I went to retrieve my phone up in my room the morning after we first hooked up, it was dead. The power had gone out, so my phone hadn’t charged.