Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
A knock at the door. Liam looks up. “Just a minute,” he says, which is promptly responded to with: “I don’t got a minute, dude, I got a lot less than that before somethin’ bad happens on this side of the door!” It’s one of the cashiers, Elliott from the sound of it. “I need in. Like, right now.” The door rattles from him shaking the handle. “Why’s this dang thing locked? Mother lovin’ …”
With a smile he can’t wipe off his face, Liam quickly tells his favorite person on the planet that he’s got to get back to work, then pockets his phone and heads off.
It was exactly what he needed. As usual, Hate2LoveU lifts his spirits and sends him back into his day with a lighter step. Liam is humming a tune to himself as he restocks a shelf. He’s bobbing his head to the song playing over the intercom radio as he checks on the displays in the front and helps with a spill by the front doors. Even when Teague has a needy moment of not remembering how to unlock a challenging cabinet by the bakery, Liam does so with a lightness to his every movement, which even seems to catch his alleged trainee off-guard. “You’re in a sudden good mood,” he says with a smile, to which Liam replies, “And it has entirely nothing to do with you,” then whistles as he saunters away, cabinet unlocked.
The good mood lasts for exactly twenty-eight minutes.
It’s on the twenty-ninth minute that he’s caught by a chipper Mr. Michelson by the cash registers. “Liam, can I have you do me a favor and run a quick errand out to Gary’s ranch? We’re running low on produce and they’re preparing an order for us. It’s a fairly big order, so you’ll need an extra set of hands—”
“And a truck!” puts in Teague excitedly, appearing so quickly out of thin air that it makes Liam jump. “I can drive.”
Liam crosses his arms stiffly. “I can pick up the order myself, Mr. Michelson.”
“Oh, I’ve seen your car,” says Teague with an annoying nudge into Liam’s ribs, “and figuring how big our order might be, it won’t fit. My whole bed is clear, clean, and ready to Freddy.”
“What in the heck does ‘ready to Freddy’ mean??” blurts Liam before he can stop himself.
Mr. Michelson, taking this back-and-forth to be just friendly banter, chuckles lightly and nods. “I’ll reimburse you both a little extra if you grab an order for Nadine’s restaurant, too, if you have the space in your truck, Mr. Jenson.”
“Sure do!” he exclaims. Liam is sputtering for a reason to stop this train from leaving the station. “Just leave it to us! We’ll take care of your errands!”
The boys each earn one of Mr. Michelson’s big hands on their shoulders, giving them a squeeze. “I knew I could count on y’all!”
7
An Unscheduled Errand
The engine of the truck rattles as they speed down the road, the warm air blowing through the windows and dragging through their hair. Whatever song is on the radio crumbles to bits of wailing vocals and distant guitar screeches in the noise. Teague is a king on his throne as he steers the truck, proud of himself.
Liam looks downright miserable.
This isn’t quite what Teague was hoping for when he insisted to be the driver and take his truck. The last four times he tried to start a conversation since leaving the store, Liam shut it right down with a single word or giving the silent treatment.
They will arrive at Gary’s ranch in just another ten minutes. How can Teague salvage this opportunity to break down Liam and his castle walls?
“Sorry about the AC,” Teague says over the noise. Yes, this is his fifth attempt at making Liam speak. “Been broken for a while now. Swore I’d do something about it, but between this job and …” Is this what he’s going for? Sympathy? That’s a waste of breath. “I shouldn’t make excuses, right? I just haven’t gotten to it. And now we’re both suffering.”
“It’s not that bad,” says Liam, gazing out the window at the sprawling countryside.
Wait. That was more than a one word response. “Oh, okay. I’m glad to hear I’m not torturing you,” chuckles Teague, encouraged.
“No, I’ve dealt with broken-down ACs countless times, even at school. The real torture is bearing this errand with you.”
Teague’s face tightens. “Am I really that bad to be around?”
Liam sighs and tucks his hat over his face, slouching in the seat and crossing his arms.
“Taking a page from my handbook?” teases Teague. “Getting a ten-minute shuteye? Y’know, it’s an acquired skill fine-tuned over twenty years of hard living, catching z’s on the fly when all you’ve got is a bucket and a mop head …”
“You’re nineteen, not twenty.”
An idea clicks into Teague’s brain. He senses the opportunity. He needs to turn Liam’s mood around. “Well, actually …” He peers at Liam, who looks so cute with his hat over his face, trying to take a nap in this unrelenting noise. “… today’s my, uh … my birthday.”