Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
“Then, what is it?”
“There’s just so much potential for things to go wrong, and then I’ll be worse off than before I was involved with them.”
As she stirs cream into her cup, Marissa says, “I suppose, but that’s a pessimistic way of looking at it. What if things go incredibly right, and you end up much better off than if you didn’t take a chance?”
I shrug. “Somehow, that possibility seems less likely. I don’t know.”
“I think you should just have fun and try to stay open.”
Seeing me frown, Marissa asks, “Is there something specific you’re worried about?”
Goldfish wanders into the kitchen then, and I hear Jessie go into the hall bathroom.
Quickly and quietly, I say, “The woman who edits their videos, Trish, told me that the guys are players. That they sleep with their fans. Lots of them. I don’t want to just be one of their numbers, and now that we’ve … done what we did … I don’t want to share them with anyone else.”
“Have you talked to them about it?”
“I did. They said it wasn’t like that, but they literally have thousands of women lusting after them online. I just can’t help but worry that I’m being reckless with my heart.”
Marissa’s quiet for a moment, thinking. “From what I’ve seen, they seem like good guys. If it were me, I guess I’d be inclined to trust them until they give me a reason not to.”
As I wash blueberries for Jessie’s breakfast, I take that in. It makes sense. The men gave me assurances, and they don’t seem like the types to take my heart for granted. I don’t think they’ll hurt me, at least not intentionally.
Just after breakfast, my phone pings with a text, then another, before I can even check the screen.
Wyatt: “Been thinking about you all morning.”
Cam: “Wish you could’ve stayed all night.”
“Me too,” I tell them both.
It’s sweet torture, knowing they’re just a few steps away, off my back patio. Assuming I could scale the back fence, that is.
If they were in their yard naked and waiting for me, I think I probably could.
“We know you’re a busy woman,” Wyatt says, “but let us know when we can get together again. We have a lot of date ideas.”
“And a lot of other ideas, if you know what I mean,” Cam sends. The silly disguised face emoji he adds to his message cracks me up.
Jessie looks up from her coloring book. “What’s funny, Mommy?”
“Oh, nothing.”
To the men, I say, “I look forward to all of that, but unfortunately things are busy right now. I’m starting that college course this week that I told you about, and my mom and stepdad are planning to come next weekend.”
“Can we meet your mom?” Cam asks. “I’d like to thank her.”
“Thank her?”
“For having such a wonderful daughter.”
“Laying it on pretty thick, aren’t you, Cam?” Wyatt sends, and I swallow my laughter to keep Jessie from being too curious.
“You don’t want to be involved with my parents’ visit,” I tell them. “I don’t expect it to be a good time.”
“No? All the more reason to have us over. We’ll liven things up,” Cam says.
I let the topic go, but later in the week, he brings it up again, and since I miss them, having only seen their faces over the fence a couple of times since Saturday night/Sunday morning, I give in and invite them to come over and meet my mom and stepdad.
Interestingly, Jessie seems more excited about the neighbors coming over than she does her grandparents, and when Cam and Wyatt arrive mid-morning on Saturday to help me prepare lunch, it’s hard to tell who’s most excited to see them: me, Jessie, or Goldfish.
Let’s just say, if I had a tail, I’d be wagging it.
I’d like to greet them with a kiss, and their eyes tell me they’re thinking the same thing, but we’ve agreed to keep our relationship on a purely-friends basis today. I haven’t thought about how long I’ll need to date the guys before I feel comfortable being honest about the relationship with Jessie, but it’s too soon right now.
“You okay?” Cam asks when he and I are alone in the kitchen, and Wyatt and Jessie are setting the tables, both the dining table and the card table I bought for the occasion. Marissa had plans today, and I think she was relieved not to be here.
It’s the first time my mom’s visited since I moved away—since she kicked me out—and there are a million ways the day could go wrong. The knot that’s been in my stomach since I woke up this morning has loosened, though, ever since my neighbors arrived.
“I’ve been better, but I’m alright.” I offer Cam a smile, which is actually genuine, now that he’s next to me.
He gives me a sympathetic smile in return. “I get it. Families can be difficult.” When I nod in agreement, he says, “Mine are embarrassed by how I make a living. They actually lie to family and friends about it and tell them I work in marketing.”