Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“If that’s what you want to do,” he said.
I squeezed his arm. “It is. Come on. You can tell me about the new project you’re working on.”
He’d been explaining it with so much excitement on the phone last night that I figured it would be a good distraction.
When Bowie followed me into the kitchen, I glanced at Kye, who was watching us with interest.
Please be good, Kye, I begged silently, hoping he could read my thoughts.
Once we were in the kitchen together, I relaxed a little.
“Have a seat.” I motioned toward the bar. “Would you like a drink? Beer? Whiskey? I don’t have any red wine.”
Neither Kye nor I drank wine.
“Water?” he asked.
I opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, then took it to him. “We can go out to eat tomorrow,” I told him.
He glanced over at the kitchen table. “Your machine is on the table, and it’s covered in fabric. Where are we going to eat?”
I hadn’t been able to finish my latest design I wanted to get into Chloe’s shops. Or at least the Ocala location. Things had been busy around here.
“Oh, I’ll clean it up. The machine only takes up the one spot. I can clear off the other three spots,” I assured him.
He opened the bottle of water, then took a long drink. I began to get out the ingredients I needed for the recipe.
“I want to hear about the project. It’s a new app?”
Bowie thankfully began talking about that. I listened the best I could, but I was also listening to Kye and Jagger in the living room. It was hard not to when Kye was talking to him about the football game he was watching on the television.
I was almost done with everything and ready to put both dishes in the oven when Kye walked into the kitchen, carrying Jagger.
He gave me a crooked grin. “Someone was missing you. Thought I’d bring him in here to see what you’re doing.”
Unable to resist, I washed my hands and reached for Jagger. “Put those in the oven as soon as it beeps,” I told Kye.
“On it,” he replied.
Looking down at Jagger, I smiled. “Did you learn all about football in there?” I asked him.
He made little noises as he reached up, grabbing at my hair. More than once, he’d gotten ahold of it lately and tried to put a handful in his mouth. I stopped him by taking his hand.
“No, no, you,” I said, laughing.
“He’s got a thing for her hair. It’s because it smells good,” Kye said to Bowie.
Bowie was watching me. “Yeah, it does,” he agreed.
“It doesn’t taste very good,” I said to Jagger as he reached for it again.
The oven beeped, and Kye moved to go put the two different Parmesans in it. “What do I set the timer on?” he asked me.
“Forty-five minutes,” I told him.
Once he was done, I took Jagger to him. “I’ve got to get the appetizer ready.”
Kye took Jagger. “Is it the Mexican dip again?” he asked, sounding excited.
I glanced at Bowie and smiled. “Well, uh, that has beef in it. I was going to make a vegan-friendly appetizer, but you’ll like it.”
Kye didn’t seem bothered by that. “I have no doubt.” Then, he kissed Jagger’s head. “Come on, little man. Let’s go back to the game.”
When they were gone from the kitchen, Bowie stood up. “He seems attached to the kid already. You sure he’s going to give him up? I mean, I hope he does. That kid needs real parents.”
I glanced at the doorway they’d gone through. Every day, I wondered the same thing. Sometimes, it was easy to forget and pretend like this was permanent.
“I think he wants what is best for Jagger.”
Bowie didn’t look convinced. “I just hope his parents rename him. That’s a terrible name.”
I tensed. I hadn’t thought of some strangers giving him a new name. Jagger was his name. My stomach suddenly felt sick, and my chest tightened.
“I … I like that name. It fits him.”
Bowie scrunched his nose with a look of distaste. “That name doesn’t fit anyone.”
I would not get upset. I would not get upset.
I was upset.
Nineteen
Kye
The chicken Parmesan had been fucking delicious. Genesis was getting really good at this cooking thing. Bowie hadn’t said much about his vegan meal she’d made, and it pissed me off. If he didn’t like it, then he needed to lie about it or eat real meat. There was only so much she could do to make tofu edible. I’d made sure to rave about my own meal.
When Genesis had told me Bowie was coming, I’d assured her I could stay in my room, alone with Jagger. She and Bowie could take my mom’s old room. Not that I liked that idea at fucking all, but I’d wanted him here. To see us together. The three of us.