Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 109178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
“Anyway, this isn’t about me. I hear you. I hear you loud and clear. Thing is, you don’t have to be sad by yourself no more. I’m here… We can be sad together. We can talk like we used to, only now we’re better able to get through it. Oh, shit!!! He’s on my ass!” She kept playing, her eyes on the prize. And yet, he felt heard. He felt understood.
…Thumbs smashing the controllers… Shit talking… Wine glasses empty, then PAUSE. Refilled. More wine. More shit talking. Smoke floating in the air from a blown out white candle and incense burning… Laughter.
“Shit! He almost got me! Len, how the hell do I get out of this area? I’m runnin’ outta ammo! Damn it!” She was practically beating the controller to death, her face twisted in concentration so deep, it rivaled the lower bowels of the pits of hell.
“You are being too aggressive with my shit, Nadia.” He was torn between wanting to laugh and tell her to calm down and cool it.
BAM! BAM!
“A! You’re about to break my shit and still get killed anyway! Slow the hell down. Relax.”
“Would you please be quiet?! You ain’t even answering my question, or helping. You’re just messin’ up my concentration with all that background noise coming out of your mouth! Rah rah rah rah… Sounds like the Charlie Brown teacher.” And then she burst out laughing when she looked back and caught him staring daggers at her.
He laughed lazily, biting his lip and shaking his head. He remembered way back when the two of them had funny little spats like this… She was always competitive, but mostly with herself. Maybe her internal storms were the scariest of all? They outrivaled zombies, killing machine robots, rabid monster werewolves, and any dystopian apocalypse on the silver screen, or between written pages. So much so, nothing scared her. Except perhaps not being heard, and not being believed… Therefore, she made certain that she was at least seen.
The reality of that being a true possibility hit him like a ton of bricks.
Nadia focused back on the game. She bit into her lower lip so hard, it looked as if it would bleed. The woman’s hands were moving fast and she was completely zoned in. Beautiful, nasty devil. Competitive little demon. And he loved it. She was actually quite good at the game. He simply was better, and wanted to make sure she knew it since she’d sold all of those wolf tickets. Besides, they both were competitive as hell. It was one of the things that drew them to one another, and all in good fun.
“Damn it! That’s it. They got me. You got lucky because I’m out of practice, Lennox.” She tossed the controller down onto the couch, pointed her finger in his direction, then stormed off towards the kitchen as if she lived there. Instead of taking his turn, he put the game on pause and followed her in. She opened cabinet after cabinet, looking mad as hell as she closed them with vitriol, but not quite a slam.
“Hi, my name is Lennox Wilde. I don’t believe we’ve met. I live here. Can I help you find something?” he joked as she fluttered from cabinet to cabinet.
Her chest was heaving when she slowly turned in his direction. A smirk creased her face, and then she burst out laughing.
“I figured I wasn’t a guest.” She shrugged. “We’ve known each other too long for that, and you know all about me. I thought I was just your girl, one that you can also kick it with.”
“My girl, huh?” He crossed his arms. “I like the sound of that.”
Her complexion deepened, and she turned to look inside of an open top cabinet filled with nothing but old plates he’d purchased from Target years ago but never used, and a vast collection of shot glasses. “You think it’s strange that a woman likes video games like that, don’t you? The violent ones?” She opened another cabinet before he could respond. “I want some Cheetos or Doritos. Got any?”
“No, I rarely eat that shit. Full of sodium and bad ingredients, but I know that you’re not in the mood for a nutritional lecture.” He walked behind her and opened up his small pantry door. “And no, I don’t think it’s strange that you play violent video games, and are good at them. We’re in a new day and age. Plenty of women enjoy playing boxing games, battle competitions, undead, military or whatever video games with plenty of guns, guts, and glory, and are amazin’ players. I was just joking with you out in the living room. I think you play well, actually. How’d you get that good at it?”
“I used to play it with my brother, and then I got my own system. It relaxes me.”