Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 72969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Fucking to-do lists.
I pace around my room, trying to shake off the growing frustration. But then images of Daniela flood back into my mind and I’m reminded of her kiss, her touch, her taste.
Damn it. This is not like me at all.
I’ve been trying to distract myself with paperwork for the past three days. It’s been seventy-two hours since Daniela left my parents’ house, leaving me in a state of confusion and longing.
Every time I blink, I see her stunning dark eyes filled with fear and determination. I feel the softness of her lips against mine, the heat of our bodies pressed together. But every time I reach out, she’s gone.
It’s maddening.
I’ve always been a man of control. My life revolves around schedules, systems, and routines. But Daniela has thrown me off balance. She’s this whirlwind that swept into my life without warning and now everything feels different.
Even sitting here in my office surrounded by the familiar smell of leather and wood doesn’t bring me the usual sense of calm.
My doorbell rings, and Jimmy, my black lab, goes bolting.
Who the hell is showing up now? I’m not expecting anyone.
At least it may help get my mind off Daniela.
I walk to the door, open it.
And there stands my little brother.
I’m not exactly tempted to let him come in. I’m still irked about him flirting with Daniela the other night.
“E,” I say. “Why didn’t you call? Do you need something?”
He needs me to get him out of another mess, no doubt.
“Sorry,” he says, scratching Jimmy behind his ears. “I lost my cell phone.”
Right. And I have some swamp land…
Or he could be telling the truth. Eagle is always losing shit. Expensive Ray Ban sunglasses, his fucking key fob. And now his cell phone.
Could definitely be on brand.
But at this rate he’s going to burn through his trust fund by the time he hits his thirties.
Except that’s a crock and we both know it. Those trust funds are enough to last us each several lifetimes. Being the grandchild of steel heiress Sandra Cooper Bellamy does have its perks.
I inhale.
And I resist the urge to call Eagle out for being irresponsible with his phone. For being irresponsible about fucking everything. For flirting with Daniela and messing with her head.
“What’s up?” I ask him.
He pauses, shuffles his boot-clad feet on my tiled foyer.
“I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s up,” I remind him.
More shuffling. “It’s… Fuck.” He riffles his hands through his dark hair.
Of all of us, he’s the one who resembles Mom the most. Even Raven and Robin, who are both beautiful and look a lot like her, don’t quite have the features down. But Eagle is Mom in masculine form. Tall, lean, and kind of pretty for a guy.
Another reason why Falcon couldn’t let him go to prison at seventeen.
God, our lives are fucked up.
“Spit it out, E,” I say.
“I’m going… I mean…” More hair raking. “Fuck, Hawk.”
Fuck is right. I don’t have a clue what’s going on with him. Eagle is used to being brutally honest with me. I’m the one he comes to every time he screws up. He knows he has to be truthful, or I won’t bail him out.
I’m sick of it.
Fucking sick of it.
Why am I the one who’s always saddled with taking care of Eagle’s shit?
And it won’t change anytime soon.
Falcon already did his time for Eagle. And the girls? Raven did her time with her leukemia, and Robbie’s the hardest worker on the ranch. She loves those animals and takes damned good care of all of them.
So that leaves me.
I’ll take care of Eagle. I always do.
But I can’t if he won’t level with me.
Something’s crawled inside him, and he needs to relax.
“Come on,” I say. “let’s break out the old Nintendo.”
When we were little, Eagle and I spent hours playing Mario Kart, at least when Falcon and his friends weren’t hogging it. I kept all the old systems and play them in my man cave every now and then. Even though a half-dozen different updates to the Nintendo have come out since then, I still return to the old 64 we played as kids. The graphics are shit, but you can’t beat the nostalgia.
My man cave is my family room. It houses all my systems, latest games, and a massive TV.
I lead Eagle toward the room, Jimmy panting along.
As I flip on the lights in the man cave, I can’t help but glance over at the array of trophies and pictures lining the walls. Most of them are from our childhood, spent outdoors being constantly competitive. We actually had a pretty good childhood before real life hit us like a fucking truck. I breeze past the photos, heading to the entertainment center where my Nintendo 64 sits.
I plug in the system and flip it on. The familiar intro music fills the room, instantly taking me back to simpler times when life’s biggest concern was avoiding those damned red shells.