Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 130380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
“Fuck off, I pick up after myself.”
“Tell that to the pile of clothes by the front door that’s started growing its own habitat,” Riley chimed in.
“Hey, this is a roommates-only discussion, Novo,” Kyle snipped. “Why don’t you go play with your boyfriend.”
“Gladly,” she said, hopping off the bed. She crossed the room and wrapped me in a hug. “Please call me if you need help wrangling these guys. I’ve had plenty of practice the last three years.” When she pulled back, she leveled her stare with me, dropping the joke. “Seriously. I’m here if you need me.”
“Me, too,” Giana piped in, and then her arms were around me and Riley both. “I left some new books for you on the shelf. They’re my favorite comfort reads. Thought they might be nice for the adjustment period.”
I sighed on a smile, hugging the two weirdos back. I wasn’t really used to having friends — at least, not more than the ones I made playing games online. But I was really glad in that moment that Julep had changed that, and had introduced me to Riley and G.
“I’ll be fine,” I assured them.
“Yes, you will be. And this will all blow over soon. You’ll be back across the street in a fixed-up house before you know it,” Giana said.
Riley nodded toward the room. “Until then, feel free to use whatever means necessary to set these guys straight.”
“We are still here, you know,” Braden teased.
Riley smiled at him and leaned up on her toes to kiss his cheek before looping her arm through Giana’s. They waved goodbye with a few more digs at Kyle on their way out.
My gaze snagged on Leo, who was unusually quiet, his arms folded as he watched everything take place. When the girls were gone, I cleared my throat.
“I think I just want to start unpacking.”
“No more rules?” Kyle teased.
“Basically, she’s saying be a decent human being. Think you can manage?” Braden asked, socking Kyle’s arm as he passed. Kyle jumped up and started chasing after him. They were barreling down the stairs when I heard Braden call out, “Welcome to The Pit, Mary!”
And against all the stress wound through my body, I cracked a smile.
Until I remembered Leo was still in the room.
He pushed off the wall to stand, crossing the room and tucking his hands in his pockets. I resisted the urge to look down at where his pockets were in those dark gray joggers because they should have been illegal, for what little they left to the imagination. Why was he even wearing joggers, anyway? It was seventy-five degrees outside. He was sweating.
Don’t think about his sweat, Mary.
“Hey, I’m sorry if I made this harder on you. I meant what I said the other day when all this went down. You’re our friend, and we want to help.”
I snorted a bit at the word friend, which only made Leo furrow his brows more.
“I’m serious.”
I hated the sincerity in his eyes more than I hated him teasing me with my bright pink dildo.
“It’s fine,” I said, waving him off and crossing my arms over my chest. I looked around at the room so I didn’t have to look at him. “I just want to get started unpacking.”
“Want any help?”
“No.”
I answered a little too quickly, a little too aggressively, but I didn’t redact the sentiment. It was already going to be hard enough existing in the same space with Leo, I didn’t want him thinking I wanted any kind of friendship.
“Alright,” he conceded, running a hand back through his hair. “Well, when you’re settled, I can show you around a little, give you the lay of the land. The washer and dryer are pretty old, need a little TLC when you want to use them.”
“I’m sure I can manage.”
He nodded. “I’ll just leave you alone, then.”
“Finally, I get my wish.”
Leo smirked, but that damn question was still in his eyes as he turned and left me to it.
When I was alone, I flopped onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling.
I probably needed to call my parents and tell them what was happening, but just the thought of it made me want to pitch myself off the roof. I could hear Mom’s condescending remarks already, could hear the way she’d belittle me and my choices before crying on my dad’s shoulder to get his sympathy, as if to ask what did I do to deserve a wild child disappointment like Mary?
Dad wouldn’t be mad. He’d likely barely react other than to ask if I was okay and if I needed anything. He’d probably wire money into my account without a word and then I’d have to pay the fees to wire it back to him because I’d refused to take anything from them since the day I moved out. Mom would then demand I come home, and he’d calm her, assuring her that I was an adult who could make my own choices, who knew what I was doing.