Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“People fucking suck sometimes.”
I never used to think that way. I’d been a sunny optimist, someone who always saw the good in others, who gave everyone the benefit of the doubt.
Sometimes I missed that girl.
Until I remembered what all that positivity and trust got me.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Thanks for this,” I said, finishing the last of my food and reaching for my coffee.
He shrugged that off.
“You wanna take a long, uninterrupted shower?” he asked. “Know a thing or two about that too. You can borrow something to wear. It’ll swim on you, but shouldn’t fall off. Not that I’d mind that,” he added with a devilish smirk.
“She’s starting to get up,” I said, seeing Lainey’s legs start to kick.
“So, I’ll take her to go see the tortoise.”
“You have a tortoise?”
“The club has one,” he said, getting up to go scoop my daughter up again. “You wanna see a tortoise eat some flowers while Mom washes her greasy hair?” he asked.
“Gee, thanks,” I said, wincing, but knowing he was right.
“Coast!” a woman’s voice called from a floor below, making him cross the room to open the door.
“Yeah?”
“Jade told me there’s a baby,” the woman called. “I need to smell her head.”
My lips curved up.
“That’s Che’s woman. This is their playard,” he said, nodding toward it. “They’ve got a bunch of kids.”
“By all means, then, let her smell Lainey’s head,” I said.
“Bathroom is in the hall. I made Dixon clean the shit out of it for you. Take any clothes you want,” he said, waving toward the dresser. “We’ll be downstairs when you’re done.”
It felt wrong to let someone take my baby away. Hell, it felt wrong to have time alone at this point. But Coast had been great with her. And who better than a mom of a bunch of other kids to keep an eye on her while I just took a quick shower?
That quick shower, though, ended up not being so fast.
I’d grabbed a tee and Coast’s tightest pair of shorts with an elastic waistband, then made my way into the hall bathroom, where I found Coast had set out several items for me: a razor and toothbrush—both still in their packaging—soap, shaving cream, lotion. You name it, he’d somehow thought of it.
And, well, when you had all those luxuries, who could blame a girl for using them?
I felt more human than I had in months by the time I stepped out of the steamy bathroom in my loose borrowed clothes.
I stopped in the bedroom to grab my shoes and Lainey’s diaper bag, then made my way downstairs, feeling a little awkward walking around someone else’s house.
“She’s out front hooting at the construction trucks across the street,” a male voice said, making me turn to find an absolute giant standing in the kitchen with a cup of coffee.
The guy had to be at least six-four with dark hair and eyes and a lot of tattoos.
“Oh, thanks,” I said, giving him a smile.
“Want another cup of coffee? Candy made it, so it’s not toxic sludge.”
I felt a little guilty making anyone else watch my baby for even another minute, but coffee really did sound good.
“Okay. Thanks. I’m Zoe.”
“Kylo,” he said. “Lainey is adorable.”
“Thanks. I think I’ll keep her.”
“Fuuuuck you, Benny,” came a croak from behind me. But when I turned, all I saw was the big blue bird from the night before.
“Rude, man,” Kylo said, handing me a cup of coffee and gesturing toward the cream and sugar on the counter. “He’s a rescue. We’ve come up with all sorts of stories about who Benny was and what he did to get so much hate.”
Kylo went into the fridge, pulling out a food storage container, then scooping a bunch of what looked like chopped fruits and vegetables into the bird’s bowl. “I know, buddy,” he said to the bird, who eyed the food dubiously. “But Remy gave me another lecture about the junk food. So you’re on a chop and pellet and occasional nut diet for now.”
“He’s gorgeous.”
“He is,” Kylo agreed.
“Is he a club pet, like the tortoise?”
“I guess so. He did belong to Remy. Along with a dozen other animals. But he said parrots really struggle with big changes, so when he moved out, he thought Mackie would be happiest here.”
“Where he can con people into giving him snacks.”
“Exactly.”
“I know. Not cool,” Coast said, coming in from the front of the house with a crying Lainey in his arms. It was one of her half-hearted cries that said nothing was actually wrong; she was just being dramatic.
“What happened?” I asked, trying to ignore the strange tugging sensation in my chest, seeing my little girl against his chest.
“The dump truck drove away,” Coast explained. “She had some definite feelings about it.”
“Oh, no. How dare they do their job, huh?” I asked, holding out a hand.