Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 97767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
I’m trying to be supportive, already hating this guy.
She shrugs. "I mean, I thought we were having fun. Good conversation, decent chemistry. And then—poof. Gone. Like he never existed." She snaps her fingers for emphasis.
I tilt my head, studying her. "Guys are such assholes. What a pussy."
She sets down her mug and crosses her arms.
"Honestly, it’s fine. I wasn’t that into him. It’s just…I don’t know. Getting ghosted sucks, you know? Seriously, why can’t people just be honest and say, ‘Hey, I’m not feeling this’ instead of disappearing like cowards?"
I nod slowly, watching as she picks at a loose thread on her sweatshirt. "Yeah, I get that. It’s not about Bart, it’s the principle."
Bart.
What a stupid name.
Can you imagine banging a dude and having to moan that name?
I almost laugh, but hide it in the hoodie of my sweatshirt.
"The principle.” She nods. “Exactly. I’m over it, you know? Dating. Talking to someone for a day and being unmatched on a dating app. Or having a guy I don’t know ask to see my boobs. It’s exhausting. Everyone is either playing games or looking for the next best thing. I hate it.”
Shit.
That does suck.
I’ve never had those issues; women slide into my DMs and hit me up after games on a regular basis. But those women are typically puck bunnies or fans, and the last time I got involved with one of those, it ended so poorly the entire break-up was headline news.
So yeahhh…
“Maybe I’m better off alone. At least then I don’t have to worry about idiots like Bart."
I stand straighter, not loving her tone.
Or the sadness in her voice.
"You’re not better off alone, Nova," I say, my tone more serious now. "You’ll find someone. Someone who calls you back and actually deserves you."
She looks up at me, her expression softening for a moment before she smirks. "Aww, look at you, being all supportive and brotherly. Who are you, and what have you done with my real twin?"
“Funny.”
She sighs. “I thought it would make me happy setting you up with Austin, but all it’s done is make me jealous.” Her laugh holds no humor.
"You’re jealous?" I ask, trying to keep my tone light, though I can tell this isn’t entirely a joke to her.
She rolls her eyes. "Not of Austin, you idiot. I’m jealous of...I don’t know—the fact that I’m single and you’re dating. I’ve gotten used to barging into your place and having you all to myself. I am happy for you, I swear. It’s just weird seeing you act your age. And it’s improved your game.”
It has improved my game.
We’ve won the last two games we played—because Austin was at both.
“Any dude that ghosts you or plays mind games. Or makes you question the relationship is not your guy, Nova. He’s not. He’s just a lesson and sometimes we learn that the hard way."
"Yeah, yeah—I know," she waves me off. "I’m not feeling this way ‘cause of Bart. Maybe I’m just not meant to do this whole…” She waves a hand in the air. “Relationship thing."
I narrow my eyes on her. "That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say, and you’ve said some really stupid shit."
Her snort is a weak attempt to cover the vulnerability. "Gee, thanks."
I take a step closer, forcing her to look at me.
"I’m serious, Nova. You deserve someone who gets you and likes all the dumb shit you do and your weird little quirks. Stop wasting energy on dudes who waste your time.” I run a frustrated hand through my hair, feeling like a life coach. “Stop settling for losers."
“They’re not losers.”
Is she defending these lazy assholes who can’t be bothered to text her back?
How hard is it?
I scoff. “Any guy who doesn’t at least text you to say he’s not interested is a fucking loser.” Or lazy at minimum.
Her lips twitch, but the sadness in her eyes doesn’t fade. "You’re annoyingly good at motivational speeches, you know that? Maybe dating someone like Austin is rubbing off on you."
I shrug, letting a smirk creep onto my face. "What can I say? I’m thriving or whatever."
My sister watches me for several seconds, tapping her long nails against the ceramic handle on her mug. Opens her mouth, then closes it.
“It’s easy for you to stand there and tell me not to settle for losers when you literally have women trying to get naked in your hotel rooms.”
She is not wrong.
That happens on occasion.
“I don’t think you can take offense to me telling you to stop settling and maybe raise your standards a little."
Nova wrinkles her nose. "Oh—'cause my standards are so low?
Newsflash: it’s not like I go searching for these guys. They find me. Like stray cats, but with worse manners and no social skills."
"Then stop feeding them.”
She blinks at me for a moment absorbing my wisdom, then a genuine laugh bursts out of her.