Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 104657 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104657 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
“You didn’t have to take me to dinner,” I say, hoping to ease the awkward tension when Lola decides to eat more and talk less.
Ozzy is my friend, but Maren is using him as an accomplice in her intervention.
“It’s no problem. Glad to do it. So how are things going?”
I took at him, eyes slightly narrowed.
He shakes his head and wipes his mouth with the napkin. “Uh, aside from the current situation.”
I continue to look at him.
He closes his eyes while pinching the bridge of his nose. “And of course your dad and that situation. Have you been to any Paddleheads games?” Ozzy offers a goofy grin while changing the subject to baseball.
There’s not an ounce of happiness in my body, but he manages to squeeze a smile out of me. “I have not,” I say, going along with this conversation that’s meant to distract me from the real shit show.
Ozzy nods before glancing at his phone. “Crap,” he mumbles, reading his phone screen. “Everleigh’s mom is there.”
“What?” I slowly set my spoon in the empty ice cream bowl. Is this a joke? Hell no. This is not happening.
“Uh, yeah. Her mom is at your place, settled into Maren’s old room.” He rubs the back of his neck with one hand. “It’s fine. Our spare bedroom has a king-size bed. They can both stay in there.” Ozzy tries to hide his displeasure with a fake smile.
“Thanks for dinner.” I stand. “But this isn’t Maren’s problem to solve. And it’s definitely not yours. I’m heading home to deal with it.”
“Man, you can’t do that. Do you have any idea how much trouble I’ll be in?” Ozzy scratches the back of his head.
“Oh, hey! Ask Everleigh’s mom what it was like to have a genius as a daughter,” Lola says.
“Shhhh.” Ozzy frowns at Lola.
She shrugs and mumbles, “What?”
“Later, sweet pea.” I kiss Lola’s head, then squeeze Ozzy’s shoulder. Yeah, he’s going to be in trouble, but this situation has spun out of control.
When I arrive home and open the back door, three heads whip in my direction. A real meeting of the minds in my kitchen.
Maren cringes, and Everleigh averts her red-eyed gaze.
The lady, who I assume is her mother, offers me a genuine smile. “You must be the infamous Will Landry. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Liz.” She sets her wineglass on the counter and meets me at the door with a proffered hand. Her long, wavy hair is amber like Everleigh’s, but her skin is fair without the warm undertones of Everleigh’s, and she’s at least three inches taller than her daughter.
Long lashes.
Hazel eyes.
One-piece black jumpsuit with white heels and gobs of gold jewelry around her fingers, wrists, and neck.
Not at all what I expected. Then again, I’m not sure I had any expectations.
“Infamous isn’t the word I would use.” I shake her hand.
“Well, it’s the one that fits because you ruined my little girl for all other men.”
“Mother!” Everleigh’s face turns crimson, matching her eyes. “Let’s just get a hotel. Come on.”
“There’s plenty of room at my house,” Maren says as Everleigh marches toward the back door, giving me a wide berth.
I should ignore her. Why do I care?
She and those fucking crocodile tears. Dammit!
I hold up a finger to Liz and Maren. “Give us a sec,” I say, following Everleigh to the shed.
“Get back, William. I don’t want Maren calling the cops on me.” She kicks one of the solar lights on the path, and it falls off its stake.
Totally unnecessary.
“Everleigh, stop.”
She throws open the shed door and starts shoving the rest of her belongings into bags.
“You told your mom about us?”
“Yes. So what? What did you expect me to do after you broke my heart?”
“I didn’t break your heart.”
“You did!” She stands straight and clenches her hands at her sides. “I’m sorry, Will. But I didn’t lie to you. Yes. I should have been more open with you. But I was on the precipice of womanhood. All of my friends were almost ten years older. I was living with my mom’s best friend, and I didn’t have any clue what normal felt like. But you—” She wipes her face. “You felt normal to me. For one week, I got to experience what my friends felt when they kissed their boyfriends and compared the number of orgasms they had. I just wanted to feel like everyone else. Not like a genius. Not special. Not like a child. Not privileged. Normal.”
I drop my head and sigh. She’s an emotional terrorist.
“Will, I know I didn’t break your heart, but you broke mine. And had you not run away, I could have eased your mind, assured you no one would ever knock at your door and send you to prison. But you just stomped all over my heart and ran off without a glance back. You wouldn’t answer my texts or calls.”