Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 112892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
He pointed to a trashcan in the corner that was overflowing with empty cans and bottles. "As you can see."
We worked in silence for a few minutes. I picked up anything off the floor—trash and fallen papers and pens. He cleared the dining room table, putting books, notebooks, and even a laptop on the shelves lining the wall.
The table was old but made of good, sturdy wood. It was oblong, rounded at the ends. I did a quick head count in my mind. If everyone came, there would be seven of us eating here tonight.
There were eight chairs.
Oof. That hit me in the stomach. If Sara was here, one spot would be for her. I wished so much she were here.
Aaron was oblivious to my change in mood. He handily picked up the extra chair and set it in a corner.
I trailed a finger along the tabletop. "We should clean this."
"I thought that’s what we just did.”
"No, we cleared it off. But we should clean it before we start putting food on it—especially food that smells that good."
"Ah, good idea."
He strode into the hallway, opened a small linen closet, and pulled out some cleaning cloths. “We can wet these in the bathroom, so we don’t bother Diego in the kitchen."
That was fine with me. I had to dampen my rag three times before the table seemed clean enough. Then Evan appeared with a stack of heavy ceramic plates that he handed to Aaron. A moment later, he brought a metal canister full of silverware to me.
"Thanks," I said. "I could have come and gotten it, though."
He replied, "Best not to. Diego can be a bit of a tyrant when it’s his turn to cook." Evan’s voice was friendly, but squeaky. He swore that he was eighteen, but he looked about twelve to me. He seemed like a nice guy, just very young.
As for Diego, I couldn’t quite picture him running the kitchen with an iron fist. He seemed so even-keeled—at least when he wasn’t insanely drunk at a party.
"How come you’re allowed in?" I asked, curious but not jealous.
"He said I’m his assistant tonight." He sounded proud.
Aaron laughed. "Which means you’re his flunky."
Evan grinned. "Something like that."
I smiled as he disappeared into the kitchen. He was a cheerful guy, which was more than I could say for some of my new roommates.
Aaron set out plates and I followed, placing the silverware on either side of them. Then he braved the kitchen, returning with a stack of napkins, which we set out.
"I think we’re good here," he said.
Jenna appeared, and I was glad to see that she came to these Tuesday night dinners.
"Good timing," I said as she entered.
She held up her phone, tapping the screen with a fingernail. "Evan sent a group text saying that it was ready."
"There’s a group text for all of us?"
"Yeah, I’ll add you to it."
"Thanks."
Evan came back with a handful of trivets and hot pads that he gave to me. "Can you put these on the table?"
"Sure."
Then he turned to Aaron. "You get the harder job—Diego’s orders."
Aaron grinned. “I don’t see how there could possibly be an easier one.” He winked at me as I spread the hot pads across the table. “What is it?”
"Getting Cody down here."
His face fell. "Crap, that is the harder job." Then he snapped to attention, giving a quick salute. "But I’m on it."
I was curious about seeing Cody again. When I’d noticed the cute guy in the back of the room in my chemistry class, I wasn’t even entirely certain it was him, at first. I’d only seen a brief glimpse of him on Saturday. He just looked like a quiet guy who kept to himself, which fit what I knew of him.
Talking to him had been a little bit like pulling teeth—but not uncomfortable. Just… surprising. Because of how reserved and closed off he was.
And because he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.
I didn’t even think I’d ever described a man as being beautiful, but Cody was. First were those eyes. They were the kind of light blue that seemed to look right through you. I couldn’t stop staring at them. Everything about him—his nose, his arched eyebrows, his stubbled jawline… it was like he’d been given the most pleasing proportions possible.
Trying to get him to talk hadn’t been easy, but I’d very much wanted to. I still wanted to, though I hadn’t seen him since.
It seemed like guys often fell into two categories: either they didn’t want to give you the time of day, or they paid far too much attention—and it was sometimes creepy. So far, no one in the house had fallen into either category as far as I was concerned, including Cody.
If I was honest with myself, I hadn’t stopped thinking about him since yesterday. He had the haunted look I’d seen in some foster kids in the system over the years. I didn’t know what had happened to him, but I was guessing his life hadn’t been filled with puppies, rainbows, and birthday parties.