Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
“Ouch. That’s a lot of cake.” My mouth opens and closes. Like the words don’t want to come out. “Stay here. I have a spare room. Though it’s a little messy. Storage boxes and things.”
Her smile widens with relief. “Really?”
“Yeah. Of course,” I say, convincing us both. “Like you said, we’re family.”
Bright sunlight borders the curtains by the time I wake the next morning. It took forever to get to sleep. My brain wouldn’t shut up and shut down. And hearing my cousin moving around didn’t help. She went downstairs for a glass of water or something multiple times. In the end, I got up and worked for a while. It’s one of the benefits of data entry. You generally get to set your own work hours.
When I finally did get to sleep in the small hours of the morning, I had one of my favorite recurring nightmares. The one where I know my ex is somewhere close by. He’s hunting me as I stumble down hallways and through darkened rooms. Looking for a way out or something I can use as a weapon. But there’s nothing that might help me and every window and door is locked tight. His brutally strong hands grab at my neck and… this is where I wake up covered in sweat, gasping for breath.
Trauma sucks.
I realize that it was the sound of people talking that woke me. Not coming from inside the house, but from below my open window at the ruined section of the fence. Noah’s voice I recognize straight away. However, it takes me a minute to remember that my cousin is currently a guest, and the other voice is hers. My brain isn’t great first thing. Or the first few hours. And I am not used to sharing my space. Hana has crashed here a time or two after we stayed up late talking or binge watching something. Though I think she’s probably the only one. Which reminds me. I grab my phone and text Hana, who responds immediately.
Me: How did your date go?
Hana: You know how the parmesan comes in a shaker?
Me: Yeah.
Hana: He ate the whole thing.
Me: All the parmesan?
Hana: Yes.
Me: How full was it?
Hana: Full.
Me: That’s amazing.
Hana: Definitely not lactose intolerant.
Me: Cheese monster.
Hana: Cheese maniac.
Me: Did he let you have any?
Hana: I would have hurt him otherwise.
Me: Fair enough.
Me: You going to see him again?
Hana: Yes. He’s cute and I need to know what other wild shit he does. This is now my purpose in life.
Me: HA.
I push my hair out of my face. Stretch and yawn. The conversation continues below my window. And it’s not like I am trying to creep on them and listen, but it’s rude to interrupt. Best to keep quietly listening and wait for a break like a civilized person. Noah stands with a hammer in his hand and new fence palings lay at his feet. Grace, meanwhile, is smiling and laughing and touching his arm. There’s a chance it’s the angle I am looking from, though she seems to be standing quite close to my neighbor, who is just a friend. Seriously close to him. Weirdly so. Inappropriately so.
There’s finally a pause in their conversation, so I lean out the window and say, “Hello.”
Grace turns her megawatt smile my way. Guess she’s a morning person. I’d heard they existed, but never quite believed.
Noah tips his chin at me. “Figured I’d take a look at the fence.”
“I did call another handyperson. They were going to drop by later this week.”
“Now you can tell them they don’t need to. Your cousin let me around back. Hope that’s okay.”
“Of course.”
Grace laughs. “You look like you need coffee, girl.”
“Yeah. I do.”
I am not jealous. It would just be easier to face the world if the two of them didn’t look so good together. Noah is, as usual, a visual delight in a pair of jeans and a tee with a backwards ball cap on his head. While Grace has blown-out hair, full makeup, and is wearing a pair of linen shorts with a cream knit tank. Her fit is fire. The way her long hair tumbles down her back in perfect curls. How many hours has she been awake for? And why is she yet again touching my Noah?
I mean neighbor. My neighbor. Shit.
Grace is back inside by the time I head downstairs after seeing to the essentials. Which includes applying concealer, mascara, and a lip stain. Today I’m wearing a black maxi sundress with shoestring straps. Not only does it have pockets, but it feels dramatic. I had forgotten how dressing could be fun when you’re not always trying to hide.
“How do you have it?” asks Grace, pouring coffee into a pair of mugs.
“Creamer and one sugar. Thanks.”
“I wasn’t sure how late you like to sleep, so I made myself at home.”