Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 50770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
I took stats one year just because they offered it up as part of your math credit and all I remember was the absolute sadness when I messed up one tiny part of my project and after two hours had to go back and find out where I went wrong.
Chloe checks her phone and frowns down at it. “Yeah, um, I’m so sorry to cut you short, but I have to get running.” She stands up on her tiptoes and presses a vanilla ice cream fueled kiss to my mouth.
I start to respond to her cold lips when she bounces back, waves, and skips out of the ice cream store.
Frowning, I finish my ice cream then start the trek back to my waiting black Benz AMG Sedan, I’d parked it there in order to eventually get in the car with Chloe and impress her but yeah, nah. Now I’m kind of leaning toward the direction of her, just believing I’m a freeloader at my friend’s ginormous beach house.
People tend to freak out when you have money, and it’s like I did anything to deserve it. I just inherited it.
All of it.
All of my parents’ money.
And a huge, almost always empty house since they’re constantly gone and ever since my whole high school scandal with a teacher who’s now in prison—one my dad paid off—they’ve become even more distant.
Thus, why I jumped at the chance to be the third wheel on this little vacation. I know Ambrose and Mary-Belle are leaving at the end of the week anyway. And it would be a waste of my money to buy my own house or VRBO when I could just crash at his place.
I hop into my car and start driving toward the beach house, fully intending on not getting distracted by thoughts of Chloe and the even more complicated thoughts about my best friend and his girlfriend.
Damn, my life is messed up, isn’t it?
I round the corner and go down A street, then make my way up the hill toward the cliff where Ambrose’s beach house is.
It’s stupid massive, six bedrooms with a smart TV in each one, snacks, wine, fluffy beds that you’re afraid to actually sleep in because they’re so white and what if you have a piece of sand between your middle toe, and five bathrooms that all seem to look like they came out of the Archeologists Digest.
Honestly, the rooms are untouched and unloved and now that Ambrose is completely on his own, all he has are empty houses.
His mom gave him her kidney and basically died a room over from him last year in the hospital after saving his life and his dad committed suicide after our high school mess up where he, the DA was caught for embezzlement and bribery charges.
Sometimes the parents are worse than the kids, just look at my dad and you’ll see all the red flags, not that I’ve seen him in the last six months. The divorce was finalized and then the house just emptied, ever since then I’ve been with them but why does it always feel like I’m intruding?
It’s not like they’re getting married soon. They’re going to travel the world and do all that shit.
I pull up to the three-story beach house with its white paint and large black door and get out, grabbing my keys and killing the engine.
Ambrose is there since his black Jeep is parked out front which means I really am intruding on their time because immediately I know MB is gonna feel sorry for me like she always does, offer to watch a movie or do something together making Ambrose give me the narrowed eyes as if to say, bro I was just going to get laid and now she wants to watch The Great British Bake Off!
I feel that though, I’d be pissed too.
I open the door, shut it quietly, and walk into the open kitchen. It’s all just… too white, no decorations, no rugs, it’s beautiful and modern but nothing about it screams family or beach day.
I feel like I just walked into LA.
I set my keys and sunglasses on the counter, go over to the fridge, grab a water and then start walking toward my room.
I don’t even remember falling asleep, I was so exhausted, when I woke up it was like this weird fever dream of Chloe and all the things I wanted to do to her, and then my mouth was so dry I stumbled half naked into the kitchen to grab water. It was peaceful for a few seconds.
But when I round the corner to go to my room, I spit out my water all over the floor. “WHY!”
Ambrose does a little half shrug. “Because I was getting laid in the shower?”
“Bro.” I shake my head. “It’s almost noon!”