Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
“I do support it, so long as you don’t lose yourself in the process, you know?”
“You don’t need to worry about that. I’ve got too many damn responsibilities in this fucking town to ever forget who I am, even if I wish I could sometimes. Couldn’t lose myself if I tried.”
“All right. All right.” He chuckled. “Hey, wasn’t that the girl you dated in high school working in there? What was her name? Sasha?”
“Yeah. She had some nerve. Came over to me and started talking shit.”
“What did she say?”
“She mentioned that she’d heard about what I did to Nina—whatever the hell that means.”
“What did you do to Nina?”
“That’s exactly the point. People are just making shit up.”
He laughed. “Well, if there’s anything people in this town are good at, it’s talkin’ crap and making shit up.”
I tried to laugh, and I wished I could just shake it off. But the mention of Nina had gotten inside my head a bit. I’d never actually explained to February why my ex left town. And once she learned what happened, she might doubt whether we could make this work.
***
Later that evening, I was back at my house when I got a text.
February: I won’t be able to meet you tonight.
I hadn’t been sure whether we had plans, but I was hoping she’d sneak out as usual. However, at first, I was relieved. Given how hard it had been to control myself around her lately, it was probably safer to have a night off. But it also bummed me out, since she didn’t have much time left here in Meadowbrook.
Brock: Why can’t you come out?
February: I’m sick.
Brock: Crap, really? What are your symptoms?
February: Just feel run down. Maybe some kind of virus. I’ve been in bed all day. My new roommate went to another room to sleep so she doesn’t catch it.
Brock: Damn. I’m sorry to hear that, Red.
February: It’s okay. I’ll live.
Brock: Get some rest.
February: xo
I turned to Oak. “I told her to get some rest, but I should go over there. What do you think?”
He stared at me.
“Or is that too much? She’s sick. Maybe she doesn’t want me there. No one wants guests when they’re sick, right?”
Oak tilted his head.
“But she’s probably not eating if she’s sick. She needs to eat. She needs chicken soup.”
He let out a single bark.
“Now you’re awake because you heard the word chicken, you big lug!”
He barked again.
“You think I should do it, don’t you?”
He fell to my feet and rolled his big body around on the floor.
“You just want chicken. I can’t trust you for shit.” I sighed. “But you do think I should go get the stuff to make soup? I’d have to go to the store. Tell me what to do, Oak.”
Ruff!
“Damn you, you old romantic.” I grabbed my coat. “All right. I’ll go.”
***
This is going to be interesting.
I had the soup carefully sealed in a container in a bag. I needed to hurry so it didn’t get cold because I wasn’t sure if Feb had a way of heating it up. I couldn’t remember if she had a microwave in her room.
I’d thrown my own ladder into the back of my truck and set it up right before I sent her a text.
Brock: Open your window, Red.
Please don’t be asleep.
When I noticed the window slide open, I began to climb the ladder.
As I made my way up, February called down to me.
“What are you doing, Brock?”
“Brought you some soup,” I said, careful not to jostle the contents of the bag too much as I climbed.
She took the bag from me as I crawled through the window.
“Be careful with that,” I warned. “It’s hot chicken soup. I don’t want it to leak.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You made me soup?”
I nodded. “You have to eat it fast before it gets cold.”
“You didn’t have to do this.”
“Well, Oak told me to. He said he owed you for the nice sleep the other night.” I winked. “Lie down and relax. I’ll prepare you a bowl.”
I took out the two bowls I’d brought, figuring I’d have some with her.
She covered her mouth. “You brought bowls?”
“Well, you don’t even have plates at home. Figured you didn’t have bowls here. I brought spoons, too.”
As I handed her a bowl, I looked more closely at her face. Not a sniffle in sight, and she had makeup on. My stomach sank. February didn’t seem too sick.
“On second thought…” I stood. “I’ll leave you with the soup.”
“Stay.” She rose from the bed. “You brought two bowls, which was very sweet. Clearly you were planning to join me.”
“Yeah. But now I’m thinking better of it. Probably shouldn’t risk catching whatever you have.” I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt.
She frowned. “I promise to keep my distance if you stay and have some soup.”