Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
“Already?” I can’t hide my disappointment. I thought she’d at least stick around for dinner. Is she leaving because of me? Am I making her uncomfortable in her own house?
“I have some stuff to do to prepare for tomorrow,” she explains.
“Okay. Remy know you’re leaving?”
“I said I’d stop by the bar on my way out.”
“That’s good.”
She hesitates, lifts her bag, then sets it down.
“Did you eat?” I ask.
“Oh yeah.” She rests her hand over her stomach. “Lots of pancakes.” She turns away. “I have to go pack my stuff.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I back away slowly. “I’ll be outside.”
I want to follow her upstairs. But I force myself into the yard again. My knee throbs in protest. I stop and study the yard. Still plenty to do but I put a good dent in it. I gather the tools I used and return everything to the shed.
The screen door screeches open. “Griff?”
Molly steps onto the porch, now in jeans and a purple sweatshirt. Her feet are still bare and her long hair’s pulled into a messy ponytail. The black stuffed bunny I left on her pillow dangles from one hand. She lifts it and waves it at me.
“Thank you.”
I spread my hands wide, feigning confusion.
“It was you who left it, I hope?” Her smile falters and she lowers the bunny to her side. She steps down into the grass.
I lift my eyebrows, still playing confused.
“Stop it. I know it was you.” Her expression softens as she comes closer. “I have a question, though.”
“What’s that?” I cross my arms over my chest, my heart quickening.
“How did you know I tried to win something just like this last night?”
It’s not “like” it. It’s the exact one she was trying to win from the creepy dude running the skeleton toss game.
“I was out and saw it.” Not a lie. “It reminded me of your devil bunny costume.” I shrug, as if I hadn’t watched her try over and over to win the creepy little fluff ball.
She laughs and holds it up and examines it. “I guess you’re right.”
“So you like it?”
“I do.” Her smile fades. “Thank you.”
She waves her hand around at the piles of leaves. “I’ll tell Remy you’ve been busy here.”
“Tell him he needs a leaf catcher attachment for his lawn tractor, too, while you’re at it.”
“Suure, I’ll get right on that.” She glances down at her bare feet. “I need to find some shoes that won’t bother my heels.” She mumbles a hasty goodbye and hurries into the house again.
A few minutes later, I go inside too.
In the mudroom, she has her bags of clean laundry lined up. The rabbit’s sitting on top of her backpack. I grab her stuff and haul it out to her car.
I load everything in the back, then set the bunny on the front seat and pull the seat belt around him.
When I’m done, I stare at the back porch. No sign of her yet.
I can’t do this.
I can’t watch her leave when we haven’t fixed anything between us, yet.
And I can’t make her stay here, either.
I go inside and grab my keys off the kitchen counter. I wait a beat. Scuffling and banging echoes from upstairs. She must be tearing her closet apart looking for shoes.
Grabbing my jacket from the hall closet, I slip out the front door. My car’s parked at the curb. I slide behind the wheel, fire up the engine, and get the hell out of there.
Hours later, I’m back in Remy’s house, going out of my mind with boredom. Definitely overdid it this morning.
Resting and recovering, hell, just sitting still in general, have never been easy for me. My knee’s cursing me out for all the yard work, and fire burns from my shoulder to my wrist.
By the time I hear Remy’s car in the driveway, I’m jittery as all hell.
I limp to the front door and open it before he has a chance.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathes out. “You’re supposed to be my roommate, not a butler. What’re you doing?”
Feeling like an idiot, I step back and shrug. “Trying to be nice. Sorry that’s such a confusing concept for you. Thought you might have your hands full.”
He holds out his empty hands. “Is that your way of saying you ate all the eggs?”
I snort. “No. I ran to the store this afternoon and bought groceries.”
“Good roomie.” He pats my head like I’m a damn golden retriever. “Yeah, Molly said you took off before she left.”
I shrug, not really wanting to explain myself to him. “I had stuff to do.”
“You mind?” He sweeps his hand through the air, indicating I should move away from the hall closet.
“Are you always this grumpy when you come home?”
“Probably.” He opens the closet door and stares. “Fuck.”
“What’s wrong?” I step behind him, expecting to find a colony of mice living in his coveralls based on his expression.