Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
He follows me out of my bedroom, stopping to sniff under the now closed spare bedroom. The soft scent of Elizabeth’s perfume lingers in the hallway as I walk down the steps and make my way to the back door. I get it half open before Whiskey is running out into the yard.
I make my way over to the side door where the laundry room is and get the cat food ready. Filling the bowls and walking out, I hear her come down the stairs. I peek my head around the corner and see her dropping her bag by the door. “Are you escaping?” I ask her, motioning to her bag.
“Yes.” She turns and walks back to me, holding my sweater in her hand. She’s wearing a pair of jeans and a thick sweater now, thank God. “I’m taking it with me, in case I get my bedroom back, I won’t have to come back here.”
“You haven’t lived at home in at least seven years,” I point out to her as she puts my sweater back to where she got it from before.
“The first six months didn’t count. I didn’t know I wasn’t coming back, so it’s six and a half years,” she corrects me, “but it’s still my bedroom.”
“I’m pretty sure once you move out of your parents’ home, the bedroom you had is no longer yours.”
“My stuff is in there.” She’s never going to let you get the last word. Never. Never did. Never will.
“What stuff?” I ask her as I walk to the back door when I hear Whiskey scratching on the glass door.
“It’s none of your business what stuff.” She folds her arms over her chest. “It’s private.”
I chuckle sliding the door open and watch Whiskey step one paw in and then another one before going straight for her. His tail wags back and forth, as she bends and rubs his neck. “We should get going,” I tell her, and she gets back up and then walks in front of me.
“How did you have a change of clothes?” I ask her as I take her ass in and then my eyes quickly fly up to her head.
“I left these here the last time,” she explains, grabbing her sneakers and putting them on. “Present me is very pleased about past me’s decisions.”
I shake my head, not even sure how to handle that comment as I move to my boots and slide them on before grabbing my jacket and shrugging it on. “Are you going to be okay with just a sweater?” I ask her, about to hand her a spare jacket.
She shrugs. “I have a jacket at home, unless they decided to lend it to the person who is staying in my bedroom.”
I snort as I turn to look at Whiskey, who is sitting there in the hallway. “I’m leaving, buddy. I’ll be back soon.”
“That’s so sad.” She looks at me. “He’s going to be all alone.”
“He’s got the cats,” I joke. “Plus he’s in a warm two-bedroom home with two big beds and endless spots for him to lie down, without having to worry about paying the mortgage. I think he’ll be okay.” I open the door, and she looks at me and then back at Whiskey.
“Bye, Whiskey.” She waves her hand at him. “Chew on all his things,” she whispers to him, but it’s loud enough for me to hear.
She’s about to bend to grab her bag when I beat her to it. “Get in the truck,” I hiss at her and then look at Whiskey. “Don’t you dare chew anything.” He tilts his head to the side as if he’s going to think about it.
We walk out and she rushes to the truck, opening the door and getting in. “It’s freezing.”
She rubs her hands together, while I start the truck and put her bag in the back before making our way over to her house.
When we pull up, there are even more cars in the driveway than last night, if that is even possible. “Is the wedding today?” she mumbles as she looks at all the cars. “Like, are we late?”
I can’t help but laugh at her. “Maybe it’s a big family breakfast,” I tell her. Her family has come to have these big family dinners on Sunday where they basically invite just about anyone over. When summer months come around and most of the family comes to town to train or just relax, the dinners are even bigger.
She gets out of the truck. “Don’t forget my bag,” she reminds me.
“How about this,” I start, walking to meet her in front of my truck, “if by chance the hotel got the pipe fixed and then all the carpets are now dry and there is no damage…” Her eyes get smaller and smaller as I talk, the glare more vicious. “…making it so you get your room back, I will gladly come back out and get it for you.”