Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“Okay.” Within seconds, his body had completely relaxed again.
I looked at the doorway in indecision, knowing I probably should just go to bed, but instead, I walked back into the hallway, listening for Mick. When I knew he was still downstairs somewhere, probably cursing me, I continued to the last bedroom. My parents’ old room.
I hadn’t been in there much as a kid. Most of the house had been my playground, but my parents’ room had always been off limits. It was a rule that had been strictly enforced even after I’d become an adult and was probably why Rhett and I had shared a bedroom and a bed for his entire life. I couldn’t imagine trying to keep him out of my space.
I opened the door, knowing that it wouldn’t look the same. The wall between the room Rhett was sleeping in and the old master bedroom had been moved, which I thought meant the master would be much smaller, but it wasn’t. Instead, the huge closet my parents had used was gone, and in its place was a more modest walk-in. He’d also added another window on the far side of the room. I glanced around, taking in the light gray walls and carpet, waiting to feel something, sadness, nostalgia, anything, but I didn’t. I didn’t recognize it. It was like I was in a completely different house.
I walked slowly back to where Rhett was sleeping and closed the door quietly behind me.
Why the hell had Mick bought our old house and then completely renovated it? The floor plan wasn’t even close to the original. It didn’t make any sense. When someone bought a house, I’d always assumed it was because they liked it, but he clearly hadn’t because he’d changed everything. I knew it must have something to do with me, with us, but I couldn’t figure it out.
I stripped down to my underwear and a t-shirt and climbed into bed. It felt odd not to brush my teeth, but I was too nervous that I’d come face to face with Mick again in the hallway, and I wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.
I’d known that seeing him again would be difficult. Seeing an ex after so long would be uncomfortable under the best circumstances and this was a million times more complicated than that… but it had been both better and worse than I’d hoped for.
He didn’t have a significant other from what I could see. He didn’t have more kids. He hadn’t screamed or raged. He hadn’t questioned if Rhett was his or threatened me legally. His family hadn’t shut the door in my face and had been really welcoming except for Otto. These were all good things. It was a good start, I hoped.
I guess, in my heart of hearts, I’d hoped for something different, even though I could barely admit it to myself. While I’d saved and planned to make my way back to him, I’d had this vision in my mind, that he’d see me and pull me into his arms. That he’d be so grateful that I was back that he’d embrace our return wholeheartedly, with understanding and thankfulness.
I knew it was a bullshit dream. I knew that life didn’t work that way and he had a lot of valid things to be angry about. I knew that it wasn’t going to play out like the fantasy in my head, but after feeding that fantasy for so long, the reality had still been a bit of a blow.
I lay there thinking about how thankful that it had gone as well as it had, that Rhett and I were finally back where we belonged, and that our flight from Arizona was finally over. But I fell asleep reliving the feel of Mick’s beard as it rubbed against my face, the bite of his teeth on my lips, and the taste of beer on his tongue.
Chapter 4
Michael
“What are you doin’ here?” I asked, swinging the front door wide for my brother.
“Thought I’d come make sure you’re not doin’ anythin’ stupid,” he joked, stepping inside. “Where’s Em?”
“She’s upstairs,” I muttered, shutting the door behind him. “Come on in.”
“Ah, but which room upstairs?” he joked as he moved toward the kitchen like he owned the place.
“No idea,” I replied flatly. “I told her to pick one.”
Rumi laughed under his breath. “She’s probably in your bed.”
“Highly doubt that.”
“It’s me you’re talkin’ to. You realize that, right?” He grabbed a beer out of the fridge and used the counter to pop off the top. “If you think I didn’t see the longing looks you two were shooting at each other when you thought the other person wasn’t lookin’—”
“There were no longing looks.”
“You could cut that tension with a knife, brother.”
“She’s been gone for three years,” I said flatly, sitting down at the table. There were four empty beer bottles on the table in front of me and one still half full.