Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 92360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“I need a shot already.” Sam shakes his head and pulls out a chair for me.
“Oh, we’re not sitting,” I tell him. “I need to be able to move around.” I shake my shoulders and Sam laughs. “I feel like we should do a warm-up or something. Run a lap around the yard and then do stretches so we don’t strain something.”
“The only thing we have to worry about straining is Mason’s brain,” Jacob says dryly, clearing having fun getting back at him for all the bestiality jokes. We open and set up the puzzles while Mason gets the booze, and we all start by downing a shot, and then Mason sets the timer.
“What’s our strategy?” I whisper to Sam.
“Find the edge pieces, and when we start getting a decent amount, I’ll sort them by color while you keep finding the rest.”
“Okay. We got this.”
“Go!” Mason shouts and the four of us scramble to start our puzzles. We find the majority of the edge pieces fairly quickly, and Sam starts to organize them by color, which seemed like a good idea at the time, but the entire left edge of the puzzle is purple and blue. When the fifteen-minute timer goes off, it’s hard to tell who’s the winner. Mason and Jacob separated the edge pieces first as well, and since we don’t want to stop and count how many pieces we each have pulled away from the rest of the puzzle, we all take another shot. It’s been several hours since I ate last, and I start feeling the alcohol pretty soon after the whiskey goes down.
“Ready, set, go!” Mason exclaims again and hits the timer. Sam and I start putting the edge pieces of the puzzle together. We both reach for the same piece at the same time and end up clunking our heads together.
“Ow,” I say with a laugh, and Sam clasps his hands around my waist, pulling me to him.
“You okay, babe?”
“I have a thick skull. Are you okay?”
“I’m good.” He leans in, acting like he’s inspecting my forehead, but kisses me instead. Mason grumbles about how gross we are but Jacob shushes him, saying they’ll get an advantage over us. While my competitive side can come out strong from time to time, I’d rather stand here with Sam’s hands on my hips than win a silly competition. Because as far as I’m concerned, I’ve already won the game.
Our distraction, however, does come with a cost. I grimace as Mason pours two more shots for us.
“If anyone pukes, you’re cleaning it up,” Mrs. Harris says as she comes out of her sewing room.
“We’re just getting started,” Mason says and pours himself a shot of tequila, even though he made sure it was known he had put more pieces of the puzzle together than we had.
“I’m kinda done,” I admit, wrinkling my nose. “Day-drinking is making me tired.” I sniffle and then cough.
“You can go upstairs and take a nap,” Mrs. Harris tells me. “Rory’s old room is filled with baby items, but the boys’ old rooms are all guest rooms now. Feel free to go lie down. You sound like you’re coming down with a cold.”
“I’m fine,” I say, brushing it off again.
“You should rest,” Sam urges. “Upstairs. In my old bedroom.”
A dull throbbing is starting right behind my eyes, and I know if I ignore it, it’ll only get worse. I really should lie down, close my eyes, and take a short nap if I want to avoid a migraine later.
“That would be nice. I can feel a migraine coming on.”
“Do you get them often?” Sam asks.
“No,” I say with a shake of my head. “Traveling seems to set them off, though, along with a messed-up sleep schedule, and we haven’t been getting much sleep.”
“Get a room,” Mason huffs.
Sam wiggles his eyebrows at me and takes the shot of whiskey Mason poured for him. “That’s my plan.”
13
Sam
“Do you want me to bring you some Advil?” I set my phone on the nightstand and turn, stepping over to pull the curtains closed.
“Sure, but I don’t feel like getting up,” Chloe says, pulling her sweater over her head. I think she feels a lot worse than she’s letting on, and I’m pretty sure she has a fever.
“I’ll get it for you, babe. That’s what I meant.”
“Oh, then yeah. And some water. My throat is a little dry.”
Giving her a kiss on the forehead, I go back downstairs for water and medicine. Chloe is snuggled under the covers when I get back.
“If you have a fever you shouldn’t be so bundled up,” I tell her and sit on the side of the bed.
“I don’t have a fever.” She sits up and takes the pills from me, washing them down with water.
“How do you know?”
“Wishful thinking.”
I chuckle and lie down next to her and start rubbing her back. Chloe lets out a soft moan and wiggles closer to me. I push my fingers under her tank top, closing my eyes when I feel her warm skin against my palm.