Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
“You’re making me rollbar hard,” I playfully mumble loud enough for Rabbit to hear.
The corner of her lip kicks upward as if tempted yet rather than encourage the action, our boyfriend tosses me a scowl over his bare shoulder.
“And now you’re making me safety harness soft.”
“Could you please take this shit seriously, Nolan?!”
“What the fuck do you call takin’ the doors off the hinges?!”
“Dramatic,” Rabbit croaks receiving two sets of glares for her answer.
“You know what’s dramatic?” It’s my turn to add a bit of gruffness to my voice. “The whole fucking production you put on to get the fuck out of here to avoid having to do the hard shit we’re clearly prepared to do.” One leg crosses in front of the other. “See, that’s the shit you still don’t get about us, Bunny. Everything Kipp just said is fucking true. We have to all be in this shit for it to work. Not just for the fun shit. Not just for the touch our dick shit. And not just for the right now shit.”
The Kid shifts so that’s he’s sitting on the arm of the couch prompting our woman to scoot closer.
Plop her chin on his boxer covered leg.
Drape one arm across him to wordlessly declare she really doesn’t wanna be anywhere else other than where she is right now.
“Y’all, we have to talk about more shit. Like Rabbit…do you keep doing consulting work for businesses like the DeLuca Construction Company and The Barktique – which both just expanded again you said – or do you join our businesses and just do our books? We could clearly use it. Or maybe you do that and start a little side hustle helping others in town?”
She hums in momentary contemplation.
“We also need to talk about the awkward shit I.E. what do we call each other? Boyfriend? Girlfriend? Partner? Fuck friends?”
“Definitely not fuck friends,” Kipp sneers.
“And that shit, brings me to the future shit we need to talk about at some point like do we ever see those fucking labels becoming husband? Wife? Do we build a fucking bigger place? Move? Do we want…I don’t know…actual fucking kids someday? One? Ten?”
My rambling is expectedly met by shock and uncertainty.
“I’m not sayin’ we need to answer that shit now, I’m just sayin’ like the matter of the ex-fuck boy that’s been alive for too long, we need to talk and come up with plans together. That’s the only way we’re gonna survive and move forward without anyone endin’ up dead or in prison.” Lifting my eyebrows to the ceiling is attached to the demand for a response, “Am I making myself freshly fucking waxed clear?”
“Now, you’re makin’ me rollbar hard,” The Kid grumbles while doing his best to adjust his growing bulge.
Guess we’ve both got a little pent-up frustration over this shit we’d like to fuck out of our system.
After exchanging slightly hungry smirks, we redirect our stares to the woman who hasn’t voiced her acknowledgement yet. We watch as she pulls herself back to a sitting position. Twists her lips to one side. Purses them to the other. Silently battles whatever bullshit she needs to before releasing a life-altering sigh. “Okay.”
Well.
Can’t say that’s the most enthusiastic shit I’ve ever heard.
“Okay?!” my best friend croaks and cocks his head in outrage. “That’s all you have to fuckin’ say?”
“Okay, I’m in.” Seeing the glimpse of her tongue ring as her mouth bobs in search of more words resumes swelling where it wasn’t needed. “I don’t wanna be anywhere else. I don’t wanna be with anyone else.” She tugs at the ends of my old sweatshirt that she’s wearing. “And you know what? I’m not just tired of running…and being scared to take a shower or a shit or make a bowl of soup…I’m tired of simply existing.” The tips of her fingers tighten around the material. “For the first time in years I got to…live. Actually. Live.” Her teeth take a nervous nibble of her bottom lip. “But I don’t wanna just live. I wanna have a life worth living with the two of you.”
It's impossible to keep us from relocating ourselves to each side of her fidgeting frame.
“Baby, look at me,” Kipp warmly commands, all ruggedness to his tone momentarily gone. The instant he has her stare, he states, “We want a life with you too.” Our boyfriend lifts her fingers to his lips to plant a small kiss on her knuckles. “Only. You.”
“We know that bastard wants you…”
Rabbit turns to let our gazes lock.
“But he can’t fucking have you.” Gripping her chin firmly is accompanied by leaning in closer. By leaving no room for doubt. By forcing her to feel my words burn against her shaky lips. “You’re. Ours.”
She reluctantly nods.
“Say it.” Her mouth cracks open yet nothing comes out pushing me to strengthen my hold. “Say. It.”