Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
The next morning, I woke with the hangover from hell. Jonathan laid passed out, his leopard-print eye mask in place.
“Jonathan,” I mumbled, nudging him.
He groaned and nudged me back, then whispered, “Don’t speak.”
“We need to get your car.” Although, the chances someone stole his A-Class were pretty high. It would have stuck out in Velma’s gravel lot like a beacon.
“I can’t, muffin. I think I’ve had a stroke.”
“Oh my God.” I smacked him with a pillow. “You have not.”
“I think Velma gave me some janky Moonshine.”
“Well, we still need your car.”
“Please go get it. Be my hero.” He took a hard breath. “The wind beneath my wings.”
I hit him again with the pillow, then crawled over his corpse, my head pounding. I brushed my teeth, yanked on my Alabama State sweatshirt and a pair of sunglasses, and braved the bus I had to take to Velma’s.
On the way back, I drove Jonathan’s car well below the speed limit, terrified I would somehow damage it. I was so focused on making sure the gravel on the dirt road didn’t fling up and ping the hood, that I didn’t notice Zepp’s bike in my mom’s drive until I had parked. I groaned, my stomach rolling even more than it already was. Zepp leaned against the wooden railing. All muscle and tattoos, looking better than he had any right to. My heart let out pitiful, pained beats.
I stepped out of the Mercedes and leaned against the sleek side, a good few feet away from Zepp. I needed that distance right now; I really did. My gaze hit the gravel, and awkwardness wound tight around me.
“Nice car,” he said.
“It’s not mine.”
“Figured.”
I let out a sigh. “You got out then.” I knew he had.
Jade had told me, but he certainly hadn’t. Not so much as a text. But then, why would he? He made it very clear in that visiting room. What I wanted didn’t matter.
His gaze veered back to Jonathan’s car. “You moved on then.”
I glanced at the car. The trailer door flew open. Jonathan stood in the doorway, nursing a mug of coffee, my mom’s pink robe on, and his eye mask on his forehead. “Moe Bear, what you doing hanging around in the street like a two-dollar hooker in all her—Oh my...!” His words trailed off when Zepp shifted on his feet. Jonathan clutched the mug to his chest, gaze glued to Zepp. “Tell me you have a brother. Please, for the love of Ru Paul. Tell me there is some more of that genetic pool to go around.”
“Zepp. Jonathan.” I waved a hand between the two of them, then eyed Jonathan.
“Oh, yeah. I’ll just...” He backed inside the trailer pulling the door shut slowly. “Thanks for getting my car, Moe Bear. You’re the wind beneath my wings,” he sang through the closing gap before it shut.
One of Zepp’s brows was raised, the other angled down. “What. The fuck.” His eyes were still on the trailer; Jonathan could have that effect on people.
“He’s not from around here,” I tried to offer as some kind of explanation. Truthfully, I couldn’t think of a place on the planet where Jonathan would be considered normal.
A silence fell between us, and his gaze dropped to my State hoodie. “Why didn’t you go to Dixon?”
“I don’t know.” I’d asked myself that before. I had the offer, full-ride scholarship, just like I had always wanted. But something kept me here. “I guess Alabama grew on me.”
“I’m glad you’re doing good, Roe.” He gave me a nod, turned his back to me, and headed for his bike. Just like that.
There was no reason for him even to show up if all he was going to do was leave. He had no idea how hard it had been for me to find some kind of normal in my life, and just when I was starting to be okay, he shows up. I hated him.
Anger heated my skin. I wanted to shout at him. Tell him how much he had screwed me up. I took a small step toward him.
“Good? Sure.” I paused, fighting the tightness in my throat. “You know, why are you even here, Zepp? Why do you care? Do you just need to feel validated that you played the hero?” My fists clenched so hard that my nails cut into my palms. Over the past year, I had pined for him and hated him, but I could never stop loving him, and that was the worst part of all this.
“The fucking hero? Really?” A sarcastic laugh fell from his lips before he faced me, jaw tight. He grabbed his helmet and threw a leg over his bike. “I’m not a knight in shining armor. I’m an asshole. Don’t know if you remember that or not.”
He was right, but I’d never cared. “But you were mine!” My voice broke. “And you left me when you said you never would.”