Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 85484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
The door closes.
I’m left alone with two new titles—Director of Bloom Match Retreats and ex-wife.
Now to find an ex-husband.
6
JESS
“You have to be shitting me.” I rip a sticker with Banks’s face off the inside of the dryer. “I swear these things are like Gremlins—they replicate at night.”
I toss the round paper with my brother’s best Playgirl smolder in the trash. Even though it’s annoying as hell, I can’t help but grin.
“How do you manage to be a pain in my ass even when you’re not here?”
I grab the laundry basket, enjoying the lavender scent from the little crystal things I sprinkled in. A woman used them to break the ice in the middle of the soap aisle in the grocery store the other day. She was borderline hot, so I humored her and took a container as she suggested. Unfortunately for her, I did not take her number. Rings on left hands are a big red flag. If they’ll cheat on their guy now, they’d cheat on me too.
I’ve lived and learned.
The hard way.
I carry the clean, warm towels through the house.
The last rays of sunlight filter through the window, casting an amber-hued glow across the living room. I plop the basket down and take a seat on the couch.
A couple is on the television, announcing which house they’ll purchase out of the three options given to them. I settle against the cushions as the announcer goes through each location one final time.
“Two,” I say to the female half of the duo on the show. “Go with two. House one has too many rooflines that’ll cause you trouble down the road. Three needs way too many updates for that price—and your guy hates it. Read the room.”
“We’re going with … house three,” she says, squealing with delight.
I grab a towel. “You’re paying half a million dollars, and you probably test crayons for a living. You’re gonna have at least another quarter-mil in renovations and won’t be able to move in for probably a year. Great choice.”
People are fools.
I glance through the window at Mom’s house. The kitchen light is on, and I find myself smiling.
This time of day is my favorite. Everything is quiet and calm—everyone is in their place. It reminds me of the few hours after whatever practice was in season and before dinner growing up. Mom would be in the kitchen cooking, and Foxx would be at the table overachieving on his homework or overcomplicating a science project because he could. Moss would have a ball of some sort in one hand and Banks on his heels. It was loud and chaotic. There was something really comforting about that.
“Hey, Jess! You home?” Moss’s voice calls out.
“Yeah. In the living room.”
The door snaps closed, and Moss’s steps fall against the wooden floors. I lower the volume on the television as my brother comes in and flops in the recliner on the other side of the room.
He looks at me with a wary yet amused look on his face. I know this look. I know Moss. My stomach knots.
“What’s going on?” I ask, making quick work of a purple towel.
“How long have you been home?”
“A couple of hours. Why?”
He strokes his bottom lip with his finger.
“Why?” I ask again, picking up another towel. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“What have you been doing the past couple of hours?”
I give him a pointed look. “Typical Friday night shit when you’re our age. Laundry. Ran on the treadmill for a while. Showered. What’s it to you?”
He smirks. “You haven’t looked outside in a while, huh?”
I toss the towel into the basket, the knot twisting harder in my stomach.
Whatever my brother is about to say will be a headache. Hell, my head already hurts. I don't even know what’s going on.
Work today was long and hot. The city sent an inspector to check the legality of a storage unit we’re using to hold our tools after hours because, apparently, a neighbor has complained every single day since we began construction.
So that was fun.
But I bet whatever Moss is here to tell me will be an even bigger ball of joy.
I narrow my eyes. “No. I haven’t looked outside in a while.”
“You might want to do that.”
I narrow my eyes. “Do I, though?”
Moss snickers.
“What did that fucker do?” I ask, my voice rising.
Moss’s snicker turns into a fit of laughter. “I love that you automatically think of Banks.”
“What other option is there?”
Banks has left me alone all day; I haven’t heard a thing from him. It was like the good old days when he had Maddox to pester.
It was too easy. I should’ve suspected something.
“Jess, you have a giant cock in your yard,” Moss says.
“A what?” The basket slides across the room as my foot makes contact. I side-eye a hysterical Moss as I make my way to the window, hobbling because my foot was still sore from the block, and part the blinds. “What. The fuck. Is that?”