Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
He nods. “Good idea.” He unwraps the foil from the top. He works the cork free with gusto, then pours for all four of us.
We toast to a future full of possibilities.
All I can do is hope there’s still time to fix this—to stitch the wound closed and maybe, just maybe, pick up where we left off. But will the Anderson brothers even want me back after the way I left them?
31
ALEX
“Get up,” I tell my brother, hoping that my authoritative tone will get him moving.
Kellan has been taking longer and longer to get out of bed in the morning. He used to be the early bird among us. The devil, they say, is in the details, and in our case, our demon has been settling in, all cozy and eager to pull us deeper under.
“No,” Kellan grumbles, pulling the pillow over his head.
“Come on, man,” I insist, yanking the pillow off his face and tossing it across the room.
“Why? There’s no rule that says I can’t sleep an extra half hour,” he mutters from under the pillow.
“This isn’t like you, Kel.”
“Do not go there. I’m tired, that’s all.”
“This is more than simple fatigue, Kel. Come on—we have a full day ahead. We need to keep moving.”
I’m met with silence.
“Fine.” I concede. Unless I physically drag him, he isn’t going anywhere. Watching him wallow hurts, but there’s nothing I can do. I leave the room and flick off the lights behind me.
I run into Oscar in the kitchen. He’s coping in his own way, which means hyperfocusing on every little detail.
“Did you know that our electricity bill went up from last month?” he asks, holding up his cell phone to prove his point.
I glance at the numbers on the screen but shrug. “And?”
“And?” Oscar fires back. “Just because we’re comfortable doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be mindful.”
“You can’t possibly be serious right now…” I stare at him, trying to decide if he’s joking.
“I’ll have to call them to get to the bottom of this. Unless you want to do it.”
“You’re serious about this? Fine. Knock yourself out,” I say, reaching for the orange juice.
For a moment I pause and inhale the bright scent of freshly pressed oranges. A phantom note of champagne drifts in, and suddenly I’m back in that hot tub on a snowy Swedish balcony, mountains looming and solemn pines standing guard.
And I can almost feel my fingers brushing through her hair…
“How’s Kellan?” Oscar asks.
“No better than you or me. It’s taking us longer than I’d hoped to shake this off. That’s not like us.”
“It isn’t. You’re right about that,” he says, letting out a heavy sigh as he sets his phone aside. “And this… this is just exhausting. If this was any other woman, we wouldn’t be wallowing like this.”
I give him a long, heavy look. “Maybe we were wrong. Maybe she wasn’t the one. Maybe we just need to accept the fact that it didn’t work out and move on.”
“Brother, I’m in no mood for rebound hookups, if that’s what you’re suggesting,” Oscar says dryly. “We all really fell for her. It’s painful, but maybe we just need to let ourselves grieve for a moment.”
“Is that what this is?” I mutter, pouring myself a glass of juice and taking a seat at the kitchen counter. “Maybe I’m focusing on Kellan because I don’t want to deal with myself. Maybe it’s just easier for me to look at him and say, ‘why can’t he just get over her?’”
“Everyone grieves in their own way.”
“Aren’t you the sage—stop saying ‘grieve,’” I say, my tone sharp. “It’s not like she’s dead. We did everything we could to try to explain ourselves, but she chose not to believe us. If anything, we should be angry.”
“Angry at Makayla?” Oscar asks, making sure he caught my meaning.
“Yes.” I nod. “She’s the one who ran out on us without even giving us a chance to change her mind. She obviously doesn’t trust us.”
“Be careful. Anger is also a sign of grief, although it’s perfectly natural.”
“Since when did you become a therapist?” I mutter.
“All right.” Oscar steps into my line of sight. “If you want to get over her, let’s do something crazy. Let’s go to Vegas. We’ll blow some cash on the slots, get drunk, and maybe meet an adventurous woman.”
I straighten. A weekend in Vegas actually sounds appealing, if only for a heartbeat. It’s been a while since we hit Sin City, and that change of scenery might be just what the doctor ordered for the three of us.
“Not the worst idea you’ve had,” I admit. “But Bryan might need us for the upcoming trade commission. It’s a major move for the company.”
“I’ll handle Bryan,” Oscar promises. “We’d only be gone for the weekend. He can do the prep work without us. Besides, he’ll probably be relieved not to face our sulking faces for a few days.”