Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 91434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Chapter Three
BROCK
The chimes start ringing, and I absentmindedly throw my hand on the side table and hit the phone. My eyes open, and I wince at the bright sunlight coming into the room. It was a long-ass night, and for whatever reason, I couldn’t fall asleep for anything. I tossed and turned from when I got into bed at nine o’clock until the last time I checked the clock, which was after three in the morning. My chest was all tight, the nervousness was all over me, and I had no idea why. I’m going to be hurting today. I rub my face with my hands before tossing the covers off me.
Getting out of bed and shuffling my feet toward the bathroom, I shut the door before walking over to the toilet. Something I started doing when Saige turned six, two years ago, and she had more questions about why “my thing” was big in the morning. When she’s here with me, I make sure the door is closed. I grab a pair of shorts before I walk over to the sink and turn on the cold water. Cupping my hands under it, I bend at the waist to splash water on my face. The coldness isn’t fucking doing anything to wake me up. I grab a towel and dab it on my face before I walk out and hear the alarm again.
Picking up my phone, I see I have ten minutes before I have to get Saige up and ready for school. I walk out of my bedroom and into the kitchen, then go around the island and straight to the coffee machine. Pressing the button on top of it to start it, I go over to the drawer beside the stove and grab a pan. The smell of coffee fills the room as I open the stainless-steel fridge, remove two eggs from the tray, then open the drawer on the bottom and grab the bag of frozen sausage patties. I put it all on the counter beside the stove before pulling open the cabinet and grabbing a mug. I take a sip and then make my way over to the other side of the house to wake up Saige.
I walk past the family room and toward the three bedrooms on the other side of the house. When I inherited this house from my father, it stayed almost the same until two years ago when I finally had enough money to renovate the whole thing, adding in my bedroom over the back of the two-car garage. I gutted the kitchen that must have been at least fifty years old. I grew up in this house but moved out for college, then got my own place when I was done. After the accident that single-handedly ruined my life, I moved back in with Pops. It was supposed to be temporary, but my father passed away about eight months later, leaving me the house. My mother has never really been in my life. She left us when I was six to be free. She used to come by a couple of times a year, but then that stopped. The last time I saw her, I was seventeen years old. I don’t even know if she is alive. It’s not like she ever checked in with me.
Walking down the hall to the room that was the primary bedroom before I moved it to the other side of the house, I push open the door and see Saige is lying on her side in the middle of her double bed. The pinks and purples in the room let you know a little girl lives here. At least every other week.
My feet sink into the plush carpet as I bend to look at my girl with jet-black hair, my chest filling with pride as I bend and kiss her. “Wake up, baby girl,” I say softly, and she mumbles before she brings the cover over her shoulder, making me laugh. She loves to sleep—well, during the week, she loves to sleep, always did. “I’m making you an egg and sausage breakfast sandwich.” I sit on the side of the bed, draping my arm around her. “Do you want it in a croissant, muffin, or toast?”
“Croissant,” she answers me, her dark blue eyes remaining shut, “and can you add cheese?”
“What kind?” I ask. I learned the hard way she has different tastes for different days. The meltdown she had when I put American cheese instead of Swiss on it, you would’ve thought I had sold the state secrets. It was bad. She pouted and refused to eat it. I offered to make her another one, but she said her heart was just too broken to eat.
“Swiss,” she replies, and I nod.
“Okay, I’ll go get started on that, but you need to get up.” I move her hips back and forth and then bend my head to blow bubbles in her neck until she is giggling and I know she’s awake.