Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69424 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69424 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
In all honesty, I liked living where I was living. I liked even more that Jasper lived next to me.
I may not have always gotten along with him, but I liked him being next to me.
I felt safer.
And I always knew that if I needed anything, he’d be there.
“Seeing you grumpy every time I opened your mail or ate your food was always a highlight of my day.”
He snorted. “You do know, correct, that sometimes I only let you eat it was because I liked you?”
I gasped. “You like me, Jasper Madden?”
He twisted us so that he was once again hovering over me, my forgotten cookie still in my hand above his head.
“I’ve liked you for entirely way too long,” he said. “You were practical jailbait when you first came on my radar.”
I hummed. “Is that right?”
“That’s right,” he said. “But you’re all grown up now, aren’t you?”
I fed him the last bite of my cookie and watched his eyes dance before saying, “Doc won’t care that much.”
“Doc will care a lot,” he disagreed. “But I don’t think I really give a shit.”
Twenty-Two
Two rules to live by:
Watch how you speak to me.
Drink your water.
—Jasper’s secret thoughts
JASPER
I snuck home in the middle of the night, shivering at the cold.
I was still in sweats and a t-shirt and had no shoes on, but I had to go home to get her the presents I’d been planning to anonymously give her.
There would be no anonymity now.
I wanted her to know what I was giving her.
I also wanted her to know that I paid attention.
After sneaking into my house, I walked to the thermostat and kicked the heat up higher—sixty was just too cold for what we were experiencing right now—and headed for the small tree I’d put up.
It wasn’t much.
Just a little one I’d bought at the Dollar Store for Sophia and her kids.
But that was where I’d stored all the gifts for everyone, including the four that I’d gotten for Calliope, that I thankfully no longer had to hide.
After tucking everything under my arms to carry outside, the lights flickered and went out.
I waited to see if they would come back on, but sure enough, my generator started up a few minutes later.
I hesitated, not sure that I wanted to take everything over to Calli’s place if I would have to turn around and bring it all back.
I’d just stepped out of my house with the presents when she texted.
Calli:
Where are you?
I felt something in the vicinity of my heart start to react at her instant reach out.
I headed back outside and across the lawn to her house.
When I got to her door, I walked inside and called out, “Calli?”
While I waited for her reply, I tucked the presents underneath her tree.
“Here.”
I looked to the side to see her munching on a frosted sugar cookie.
“Geez, do you ever stop eating?”
She snorted and said around a bite of cookie, “Not really. If it’s there, I eat it.”
I caught up the blanket from the back of the chair—one she must’ve had wrapped around herself at some point because it was still warm with her body heat—and wrapped it back around her shoulders. Once it was tightly around her, I picked her up and tossed her over my shoulder.
She squeaked, and I felt crumbs leak down the gap in my pants.
“You just spit crumbs down my back,” I pointed out. “I think there’s a crumb in my crack.”
She reached her hand in my pants, tickling my ass as she did.
“Hey!” I jostled her.
She giggled and laughed, reaching so far into my pants that she was practically tickling my taint.
My very sore taint.
“You go much farther and touch my taint, and I’m going to drop you,” I told her bluntly, though I’d never drop her no matter what. “My taint is raw as shit right now.”
She snorted out a laugh, pushing her hand down farther to loosen the leg of my underwear so she could free the crumbs that were most definitely there.
“No crumbs.”
“Sure,” I said as I carried her out the door and to my place.
My feet were downright freezing by the time I made it into my house.
Once I set her on her feet, she took a look around. “Nice.”
I looked around with her.
My house was decorated by my sister, and you could tell.
I had fluffy pillows that “contrasted beautifully with the deep green of my couch” according to my sister. I had the biggest couch we could fit in the space that was so soft and fluffy that no male would’ve chosen it on his own.
The walls were a creamy beige, and the floor was hardwood and “blonde.”
My sister had decorated it from top to bottom, and I’d let her do it all because I hadn’t cared.
“My sister,” I answered for her. “She hated that I was staying on a futon. She bought all the furniture. Picked out the paint. Redid my floors. Updated my kitchen.”