Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Blakely
I’m sitting on the couch in the living room, nursing my warm beer and searching for Brenton. He told me he was going to find J.C. to say hi and would be right back. It’s been a while now and I’m ready to go home. I don’t know anyone here, and I realize it was dumb to come here in the first place. This isn’t who I am. I don’t go to frat parties, when I can be home, spending time with my son or studying.
My phone goes off and I pull it out, hoping it’s Keegan. But it’s not. It’s Sierra.
I click on the text and a picture of Keegan reading Zane a bedtime story pops up. By the way it’s taken, it’s obvious she snuck the picture, and that has me grinning. Keegan’s holding The Giving Tree, and Zane is looking up at his daddy like he hung the moon.
The book is old, given to me by my aunt when I was little. She shared my mom’s and my love of reading. She wrote a note in the front and signed it. She died a few years later from cancer. It was part of the book collection I was allowed to grab when we were forced to leave our home after our parents died and the state’s attorney’s office would only let us take our personal belongings.
Over the years, when we moved from our grandmother’s home, to Jordyn’s, and then here, I’ve lost several items along the way, but I made it a point to keep the book collection. The Giving Tree is the only book in the collection that’s meant for kids, and Zane cherishes it as much as I did when I was his age.
While I’m staring at the picture, my sister sends another. This one is of Zane with his head on Keegan’s shoulder and his eyes closed. Keegan is still holding the book, but he’s looking at Zane, his eyes filled with parental love.
Wait a second… is he still there? Maybe he didn’t respond to my text because he was busy with our son. Have I been sitting at this stupid party while he’s at my house waiting for me?
Me: Is Keegan still there?
“No,” a husky voice says in my ear from behind. “He’s right here.” When I whip my head around, I find Keegan leaning over the back of the couch.
“Hey,” I say in shock. “What are you doing here?”
“J.C.’s a popular guy.” He shrugs. “Doesn’t everyone attend his parties?”
“I guess.” I lift a shoulder and turn my body to face him.
“Thought you were studying,” he says, only curiosity in his tone.
“We finished and Brenton asked to come by here.”
“You don’t look like you’re really enjoying yourself.”
“It’s not really my scene,” I admit. “Did you have a good night with Zane?”
Keegan’s face lights up. “The best. You’re raising one amazing kid.” His words fill me up like helium.
“Thanks.”
“What the hell are you doing here?” a menacing voice booms. When I look over Keegan’s shoulder, I spot Brenton standing right behind him.
Keegan stands and turns around to give Brenton his attention. “Just hanging out, man.” I can’t see his face, but I can hear the overly happy tone in his voice.
“You following Blakely and me?” Brenton accuses.
Before Keegan can answer, I say, “I’m ready to go.” Both guys glance at me.
“All right, I’ll take you home,” Brenton says first. Keegan’s jaw ticks, but he doesn’t argue with Brenton.
“I rode my board,” he says, which explains why he didn’t offer to take me home. The truth is, I would rather walk home with Keegan than ride with Brenton, but that would make me look stupid, and it would be ridiculous for Keegan to walk me all the way home and then have to go back to his place—speaking of which, I have no clue where he lives. Maybe he lives near me and is going in the same direction.
Not wanting to cause an unnecessary fight between the two guys, I decide to just go with Brenton. He lives right below me, so it only makes sense. Plus, my backpack is in his car anyway. “Okay, I’ll text you later,” I tell Keegan.
“Yeah,” he says back. Then he adds, “Text me when you’re home, please.”
I nod, then stand, and that’s when Brenton steps around the couch and grabs my wrist, pulling me away from Keegan. “Let’s go, Blakely.”
“Don’t fucking touch her,” Keegan barks.
“Don’t fucking tell me what to do,” Brenton threatens.
“Brenton, let go of me, please.” I glance up at him, confused as hell why my best friend, who has always been nothing but kind and sweet, is suddenly acting like such a raging asshole.
He inhales a deep breath, obviously to calm his temper. A temper I’ve never seen until Keegan showed up. “Sorry.” He sighs. “I didn’t mean to grab you that hard.”