Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
“You’re the only one who can get it out of me.” She turned between him and the island, running her fingertips up the center of his chest, driving them straight into his hair. As she clutched those strands, everything below his waist tightened in response. “You’re the only one who can get a moan out of me too,” she murmured, going up on her toes to slowly lick the hill of his Adam’s apple.
Madden dropped his keys. “Eve,” he said raggedly, seeking her mouth, his hands reaching for her thighs so he could yank them up to his hips.
She dodged him with a flushed smirk, snatching up his keys and twirling toward the door. “Don’t worry. I’ll drive while you pull yourself together.”
He chased her down the hallway, their laughter echoing through the building.
* * *
Approximately fifteen minutes later, Eve stood in front of a fire-engine-red bathroom stall door with a crispy new chef’s hat in her hands, courtesy of the local pizza shop they’d swung by on the way over. She’d expected to feel a punch of nostalgia walking into the elementary school she’d once attended, but nothing felt or looked familiar. Surely everything hadn’t always been so . . . miniature? Her surroundings were tiny, right down to the soap dispensers and trough-style sink.
Landon’s teacher had her back pressed against the door, presumably to keep other students from entering while Eve talked Landon off the ledge. The woman’s fingers flew over the screen of her phone, her eyes ticking to Eve and back down to whoever she was texting. It’s about me.
She’s gossiping about me with her local friends.
That girl who owns the burlesque club is here.
She looks like she just got out of bed.
You should see what she’s wearing.
Guess I should be glad she’s wearing anything at all.
Perhaps Eve’s assumptions had everything to do with her current surroundings and nothing to do with reality, but throw in the woman’s smug welcome and Eve felt somewhat . . . exposed. As though everything she said would be broadcast around town, dissected and evaluated. Which is why she’d always kept her mouth shut in class or at school functions growing up. The most innocent statement out of her mouth never failed to be related back to the strip club, nudity, boobs. Every time.
You’re not in high school anymore.
The teacher is probably just texting her boyfriend.
Probably. But Eve still found herself torn between relief that Madden had stayed in the car and the sudden wish he’d come into the school with her. The ache for his supportive presence surprised her as much as it scared her. She’d always done hard things on her own. Now would be no different. The future would be no different either.
That’s how it had to be.
Eve looked down quickly, keeping her gaze trained on the brim of the chef’s hat.
“Hey, Landon?”
Silence. Then, a sniffle. But no further response.
“I brought you a new chef’s hat. Want to see it?”
More sniffles. “No.”
Eve reared back a little. “Why not? It’s the same as the other one.”
“I want the other one.”
“I’m sorry. It got wet and it ripped.” When Landon didn’t respond, Eve sighed, opened her mouth to suggest they get ice cream later. Anything to incentivize him. But she stopped short when she heard the quiet, yet distinct click of an iPhone camera. Had the teacher taken a picture of her? Cold sweat spread beneath Eve’s clothes, her knee-jerk reaction to call the woman on her behavior, but she didn’t want to make the moment worse for Landon. Focus on your nephew. “Want me to crawl in there with you, kid? We’ll stay in there forever. You can be the mayor of toilet town and I’ll be your trusty assistant.”
Was that a tiny giggle she heard?
Eve’s chest expanded with hope. “We’ll have big parties. BYOP. Bring your own plunger.”
Fine, that joke was probably lost on the five-year-old, but it had to land with the teacher, right? Wrong. The woman still hadn’t looked up from her phone.
Any mother in the same position wouldn’t have been treated like this.
It was just her.
That certainty now sat in her stomach, heavy but familiar.
The feeling of not being respected.
Eve swallowed, trying and failing to stave off the inferiority. They’d been in the bathroom for five minutes and she was no closer to getting Landon to come out. “Why is that chef’s hat so important to you, Landon?” she asked, changing tactics.
The silence drew itself out for so long, she wasn’t sure he was going to answer. But then, “I used to wear it. To help my mom cook.”
“Oh,” Eve breathed, winded. Of course, the hat had special meaning to Landon. He’d been asking to wear it to school for weeks. Why hadn’t she asked why before now? Had she been so caught up in her own bullshit that she couldn’t see what was right in front of her? Wetting her lips, Eve turned to the teacher. “We’re going to need that hat, please.”