Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“Really?”
“Did you expect anything less?” I roll onto my side so I can look at her.
“Unfortunately, no.” She quirks a black brow at me. “He really cleaned your room? For the record, I’ve never seen it look like this.”
“Neither have I,” I tease, earning a snort of laughter from her. “I should get some credit. I picked up my dirty clothes off the floor before you showed up.”
Her features soften as she studies me. “You didn’t call me to impress me with your clean room. What’s up? Something’s wrong. You’re sad.”
Her words are a punch to the gut. I swallow down the pain from earlier, giving her a clipped nod.
“My life is really fucked up right now,” I admit, sighing. “Great in some ways, but also confusing, and stressful as hell.”
“Your parents or the boy you stalk?”
A laugh bursts out of me. “Both.”
She reaches forward, smoothing my hair back. “Which one is great?”
“Fuck,” I murmur, fighting a grin as I scrub my palm over my face.
“Alister Sommers.” She playfully gasps. “Did you kiss him?”
“Yeah, and some other stuff.”
“Scandalous.”
“You’re not mad. You sound amused.”
“We talked about this. We’re cool, Canyon. Friends, remember?”
Relief floods through me. “We made each other…” I trail off, letting her fill in the blanks. Based on her wide eyes, I’d say she has.
“Wow. So, uh, it’s kinda hot in my head now that I’m picturing it.”
So hot. So very fucking hot.
“Something happened?” she questions. “Now you look troubled again.”
“He confuses me sometimes. One minute he’s into it and the next he’s not. It’s all weird, but before he got weird, it was fucking intense.” I frown at her. “I went over there ready to kick his ass because I was so pissed. But…”
“Y’all made out like a couple of horny boys instead?”
“Pretty much.”
“What sent you over there in the first place?”
I cringe as I remember the fight with Mom earlier today and then again this evening. “Mom.”
“Aimee?” Her brows furl together. “I expected anyone but her.”
I tell her the story of wanting Mom to come to my meet but her claiming to have to work. Her brows lift when I get to the part about the guy at the bakery saying she hasn’t been there for a while. Finally, I tell her about the fight we had.
“I’m sorry,” she says, taking my hand and squeezing it. “I don’t know what’s going on with her, but it’s unfair to treat you that way when all you’ve wanted was her happiness.”
Hearing my own thoughts validated has a calmness settling in my bones. Once I relax, we chat about her job, the fact that Leon was the “friend” to visit her, and how much of a bitch her sister is being lately. Eventually, she has to get home so her parents won’t worry. I’m thankful for her friendship.
“See you Monday, friend,” I say with a wave as she trots off toward her vehicle.
Once I lock up the house, I walk back into Mom’s room. Her food sits untouched and she’s now in her pajamas watching television.
“You didn’t eat?” I grit out, motioning to her food.
“I’m not hungry.”
Seriously? She probably hasn’t even eaten today. This is getting out of hand. If she’s not careful, she’ll end up sick. Mom needs help—help I clearly can’t provide. Maybe her brother can.
“Do you want me to call Uncle Adam?”
She scoffs. “No.”
“I just think someone else needs to talk to you because I can’t seem to get through to you.”
“Canyon—”
“You’re acting like you don’t care about life anymore!” I bark out. “I’m so fucking tired of it!”
Mom sits up and scowls. “Get out.”
“Fine, we can talk about this tomorrow,” I spit out as I stalk toward the door.
“No. Out. I want you out of my house.”
I freeze, jerking my head toward her. “W-What?”
“You want to act like your father, then go live with him. I can’t deal with this. Go.”
“You can’t be serious—”
“I said go!”
With my heart shattering inside my chest and tears pooling in my eyes, I escape her depressing room and hurtful words.
What the hell just happened?
Alister
He didn’t send me those texts.
What the fuck? What the fuck? What the actual fuck?
Quickly, I change the contact from Brother Lover to Creep. I’m completely skeeved out by this conversation I’ve been having with a stranger while thinking it was Canyon.
I should tell Dad and Ryan.
My stomach twists violently, making me nauseous. It’s a wrong number, obviously. Whoever has been texting with me doesn’t mean to. That’s it.
They know when your birthday is, dumbass.
No, they don’t. It’s a coincidence. The text about my birthday said two weeks, not the actual date.
One thing I know for sure is Canyon wasn’t the sender. After calling him out on it on Instagram, he genuinely seemed confused. I feel dirty and used talking to a random person while thinking it was him.