Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 125852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
There’s no time to snoop around in Brady’s childhood room, so I just scan for something that can work in the closet, knowing his sweats are an immediate no-go since they’re far too big. I find an old hoodie with our high school logo on it and pull it on—why didn’t I take the time to put a bra on before heading out to help Junie yesterday morning?
It’s a charcoal gray and has been washed so many times, the inside isn’t as soft as it used to be, but it’s still comfortable, and when I push onto my tiptoes to look in the mirror over his dresser, I see the lip of the back doesn’t cover my ass.
I sigh and try again, this time picking up one with some camp logo on it, likely from some football training program they always seemed to join when it was offseason. I repeat the process, smiling when this one manages to hang low enough to not appear scandalous. The hoodie is a forest green, with a white-and-yellow logo, so I grab a pair of long white socks and tug them up, smiling when the tops reach mid-knee.
“This is actually kind of cute.” I pinch my lips to the side in thought. “Now what the hell am I supposed to do about underwear?”
Finishing up, I hurry into the bathroom to use the toothbrush sitting on the counter, figuring it’s for me, and brush my wet hair out, parting it down the middle. I search the drawers, finding some hair products, and smooth it through the crown of my hair, flattening the part to my head and sweeping it back in a perfect bun. It’s the easiest hairstyle a girl can wear and still look like she tried.
I nod at my reflection and make my way down the stairs, the front door opening as I reach the last step.
Ben comes in, smiling my way. “She’s alive.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I chuckle. “Need some help?”
“With the heavy lifting, when I’ve got a perfectly healthy six-foot-four and 259-pound son to do it?” He raises a dark brow. “Get your butt out of here.”
“I’ll have you know, I’m strong as shit, Mr. Lancaster.”
“Sweetheart, don’t mister me. It makes me feel old.” He continues into the living room, and I smile as I head into the kitchen to see if Tisha needs any help.
She’s dancing around to soft classical music, pulling a glass dish from the oven the second I walk in. She looks up and her lips stretch into a smile. “Perfect! And did I hear the boys get back just now too?”
“You did.” I nod, looking around the table as she sets the glass down. “Is anyone else coming for breakfast?”
She waves me off with a laugh. “I know it’s a lot, but it’s been a few months since I’ve gotten to make my baby breakfast. Besides, you guys can always take the leftovers back with you tomorrow. Have you heard from your parents? Did they make it okay?”
I sigh, taking a seat when she points at the chairs. “Yes, they sent me a picture of them drinking mimosas out of coconuts this morning.”
Tisha smiles, taking a few coffee cups down, and starts filling them.
“Only two, Mama.” Brady’s voice reaches me, and just as his mom turns around, a frown on her face, a paper cup is set down in front of me.
I tip my head back, looking upside down at Brady behind me.
“It’s not Caramel Cookie Crumble with extra cookie and extra crumble,” he says. “But it is a Cookie Butter latte with extra caramel.”
I blink up at him. “You know my drink from Bebe’s Brews?”
“You thought not?”
“I haven’t ordered one of these with you around since, what, the day we left for summer after senior year?”
He holds my gaze and I squash my lips to one side to hide a smile, but he sees it. Slowly, a grin makes its way across his handsome face. He winks and moves around the table, and call me Michael Myers because I stalk him all the way. I just can’t look away.
He steps up to his mom, kissing her on the cheek as he steals a piece of bacon and makes a dash for it. As he clearly suspected she’d try, her arm darts out to smack him, but she misses…because her eyes are on me, a gentle heat stirring within me at the tenderness there.
“Well, okay then,” she says quietly, her smile soft as she passes the other coffee mug to her husband, the two sharing a look before she turns to the fridge.
Brady drops beside me, looking down at my outfit. “That’s the hoodie I got at camp the summer before we left for Avix.”
“Mine now.” I lift a shoulder, and he rolls his eyes playfully.
“Course it is. You’re becoming a regular thief over there.”