Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 114492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
I shake my head and exhale. Please, God, let this girl call him and tell him she wants him, once and for all. Please, God, let her do the equivalent of holding a boom box over her fucking head. Because if Jonas shatters again, then it’s gonna be me who’ll have to pick up his infinite pieces—again. And at some point, there’s not gonna be enough superglue in the world to hold that motherfucker together anymore.
I take another long swig of my beer.
Well, shit. I should just call Sarah for him and ask her what the fuck’s going on. I down the rest of my beer. Hell yeah. That’s exactly what I should do. Nobody fucks with my brother. She seems like the coolest girl in the world, I must admit—but right now she’s fucking with him. No doubt about it. And that’s not cool.
No. Obviously, I can’t do that. She’s not fucking with him. I’m just being an idiot. She was stabbed. She’s being hunted by a global crime syndicate. Jesus. Maybe placating Jonas’ feelings isn’t high on her priority list right now.
Poor Jonas. My stomach twists. What the fuck am I gonna do with him?
I run my hand through my hair, my stomach twisting into knots. I exhale loudly.
Well, I gotta do something.
A smile dances on my lips. Maybe I should try to get some inside information from her hot best friend? Now there’s a call I certainly don’t mind making.
I pull out my phone and I’m assaulted with a naked selfie from Bridgette, her legs spread-eagle, her fingers shoved up her hairless crotch, a huge smile on her face. The note accompanying the photo reads, “Come and get it, Faraday!”
I roll my eyes. What the fuck have I been doing, messing around with Bridgette? She’s stunning to look at, but she’s such a fucking train wreck, it’s not even worth it.
“Your waxer missed a spot,” I text to her in reply.
Her reply is immediate. “Ha, ha. Are you gonna come hit this or not?”
“Not. I’m in Seattle with my brother. Family emergency.”
“Oh damn,” she writes. “I was in the mood for some huge Faraday peen. I don’t always do peen, but when I do, I make it huge Faraday peen.”
“The most interesting woman in the world,” I write, though it’s the furthest thing from the truth.
“I guess I’ll have to find some other huge peen to satisfy me, then,” Bridgette writes.
“Good luck with that. Once a girl’s had Huge Faraday Peen, no other peen shall do.”
“Well, then, I guess I’ll just have to get me some pussy. You know I’m a big believer in affirmative action.”
“Whatever floats your boat, Bridge. Enjoy.”
“So when will you be back in LA?”
“A couple days at least,” I write. “Just depends on how long my brother needs me.” Of course, I have no desire to fuck Bridgette when I get back to LA, whenever that happens to be. I’ve long since lost interest. But we’re so rarely in the same city at the same time, given both of our travel schedules, I’ve never felt the need to make a formal declaration of my lack of interest.
“Okay. See ya around,” she writes. “Say hi to your big dick for me.”
I stare at my phone for a long minute. Really? That’s it? ‘Say hi to your big dick’? I tell the woman I’ve got a family emergency and that the length of my stay in Seattle depends on how long my brother needs me and she doesn’t even ask me what’s up? Or if my brother’s okay? Well, that’s Bridgette for you in a nutshell: a sociopathic narcissist, through and through.
I’m done. I should have done this a long time ago. I’ve spiraled into total douchebaggery since Emma, and I’m fucking sick of myself.
“Hey, Bridgette,” I type. “I’m gonna take a break from meaningless booty calls and sociopathic narcissism for a while. Well, forever, actually. It’s been super fun. Thanks for the memories. Best of luck.” I press send. A total dick move, but I don’t care. She’s not even gonna ask me if everything’s okay with my family? Didn’t I just tell her I’m in Seattle for a fucking family emergency? Jonas is literally my only family, other than my uncle, and she knows it—I told her about Jonas once when she told me about her sister going into rehab—and she’s not even gonna ask me if he’s okay?
“Sure thing,” she writes back immediately. “I’m going to Milan next week and then to Barbados for a shoot. I’ll text you next time I’m in LA, just in case you change your mind, which we both know you will. Küsse, Faraday.”
I’m tempted to write something like, “Erase me from your contacts,” but I refrain. I’ll just leave it. I said what needed to be said. And it felt pretty damned good, too. I just turned down one of the most objectively beautiful women in the entire world. (Well, physically, anyway—I think her heart is filled with battery acid.) That’s got to be a sign I’m headed in a new, healthier direction.