Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 122966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
“Should we chitchat?” Pipsqueak asked curiously.
My mouth twitched. “Do you have something to say?”
She lifted a shoulder. “I didn’t prepare anything.”
Well, then.
Actually, I had a question of my own. “Do you have summer school this year?”
She shook her head. “Willow does, though.” That was her sister. Willow was nonverbal around strangers, so I was pleased to hear she would be attending classes. It was all in preparation for the coming semester, essentially helping her keep her anxiety at bay. Neither one of them was behind in any way, but they required some extra easing into new things. “She thinks her teacher sucks,” she added.
“Your sister thinks everyone sucks.”
Pipsqueak snickered. “She does. But she gets new teachers after the summer. Maybe they will be better.”
Holy shit, already? Christ. She was right. Willow was starting high school this fall. That was nuts.
I felt old.
“Are you coming over on Saturday?” she asked next. “We’re going to move my birthday party so Jake can be there.”
I inclined my head. “Darius invited me.” Though, I hadn’t known it would be a birthday shindig. I thought we were just having dinner to see Jake off.
“Good! I’m becoming a teenager. I’m ready, I think.” Then she peered down into her pajama top, causing my eyebrows to lift. “I hope I get boobs soon.”
I coughed and drank from my coffee. Okay, I didn’t mind talking to her, but I wasn’t equipped to handle any coming-of-age topics. Besides, she shouldn’t be in a hurry. When girls became women, they lost their innocence and turned into manipulative bitches.
“Savor your childhood, Pipsqueak. You’ll never get it back.”
She made a noise. “You can’t call me that anymore. I’m starting seventh grade soon! It’s Elise.”
I barely refrained from rolling my eyes.
She’d been Pipsqueak since the first day Jake introduced me to his family. She’d hidden behind her father at first, then tentatively approached and stuck her hand out for me to shake, and she’d chirped, “Hello, Mister-Jake’s-friend-Avery.”
I didn’t know what aged me ten years that day, the graduation ceremony and all the chirpy WASPs, or the night out with Darius and Jake.
Either way, I woke up on Saturday morning feeling like shit. With the hangover from hell, I stumbled down the stairs and wondered if Angie was around. She was sleeping in the guest room lately, which was empty now, and I had alternated between our bedroom and the living room couch, depending on my mood.
I came to a stop in the hallway before I could enter the kitchen.
Something was missing.
Angie’s three graduation photos from the wall were gone.
Then I peered into the living room and furrowed my brow.
Seriously?
The shelves where we’d had all the DVDs were empty. Most of the pictures were missing, aside from a few that were shattered on the floor. Knickknacks, gone. Her ugly old afghan was gone from the couch. TV was still there. So was my PlayStation.
She had left, hadn’t she?
And she’d taken my goddamn DVDs with her.
I stalked out to the kitchen where she always left notes in case she—yep, there was a note waiting for me on the kitchen island.
You win. We’ll go fifty-fifty on the sale of the house. I can’t fight anymore. I don’t even want to look at you. I’ll be staying with a friend until my apartment is ready. Don’t call. We’ll leave this to the lawyers.
Oh, fine by me.
Curious that she called this my win. It may have been her credit score and salary that’d landed us this mortgage, but I’d paid as much as she had. Going fifty-fifty when we sold the house wasn’t me winning; it was just what was fucking fair.
Another raging whore bites the dust.
I wouldn’t miss her for shit.
One thing was clear, though. I was done with relationships. Women couldn’t be trusted.
I showed up at the Quinns’ house at three with a bottle of whiskey for Jake and a Barnes & Noble gift card for Pipsqueak. She was always reading something.
Lias, the youngest of the five brothers, opened the door for me, and I was surprised to see him at first.
“Long time, no see, buddy. How’s the East Coast?” I asked and entered the house.
“Boring?” He chuckled and shrugged. “I guess I shouldn’t tell you that I’m kinda failing my economics class.”
“Ugh.” I clutched my heart with my free hand. “You were doing so well.” I’d never had him in any of my classes. He’d gone to high school down here in Downtown, but I’d helped him study for many tests over the years. “Do your best to get through,” I advised. “You’re picking your major soon, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I’m looking into hospitality management.”
That could work. He was an outgoing guy with good manners buried underneath the ten layers of hell-raising that came with being a Quinn.
“I can see it,” I said with a nod. “Just keep trying, and you have my email and number if you need help.”