Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 21429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 107(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 107(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
“Mary! Did you hear all of that!?”
“Every word,” she giggles. I groan. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad.”
“I—he was naked, Mary! And when I gave him the towel, he didn’t even bother wrapping himself up in it. He just stood there!”
“Too bad we weren’t FaceTiming,” she says. “After all the descriptions you’ve given me, I would like to see how he matches up.”
“Honestly, I almost wouldn’t mind you getting a glimpse,” I laugh. “But just a glimpse!”
“Hey, if you’re not gonna sleep with him, you wouldn’t mind if I go ahead and—”
“Zip it!” I snap.
Mary laughs. “See? You want him. Like I said, girl. You need to just get over yourself and go for it.”
5
Skylar
“Isn’t this nice?” Kathleen, my step-mom, asks as she serves scalloped potatoes to everyone with a large silver serving spoon. “All of us together as one big family?”
My stomach turns, not because Kathleen’s cooking is just above Kitchen Nightmares quality on a good day, but because of her choice of words.
One big family.
I look across the table at Walker, who I can tell is doing his best not to laugh. His foot grazes mine, and I quickly tuck mine under my chair. Is he playing footsies with me?
My dad stuffs another bite of the roast chicken into his mouth and nods.
“Very nice,” he agrees. “And I have to thank my step-son here for agreeing to come back from Los Angeles to lend his services to the firm.”
He raises his glass in a toast, and Walker quickly does the same.
“Well, not like you gave me much of a choice. Or let’s just say, you made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
My dad chuckles. “Just call me the Godfather.”
“Roman Corleone?”
My dad nods, grinning, and digs into the scalloped potatoes.
So that’s why he’s here, I realize. To help my dad with the firm. It occurs to me that I’ve been so caught up in our past that I haven’t even bothered to ask him why he’s moved in with his mom and step-dad at the age of…
Oh my God. I don’t even know how old he is!
“Walker, how old are you?” I ask.
“Forty-five,” he replies. I freeze, my fork an inch away from my open mouth. Kathleen laughs.
“Oh, honey. Stop that!” she pats me on the arm. “He’s twenty-nine, dear.”
A sigh of relief flows through me.
“Come on, forty-five?” Walker laughs. “You believed that? I’d have the best skin in the world!”
“Hey, I don’t know.” I shrug. “You are a pretty decent liar.”
Walker, feigning ignorance, puts on a pretty good offended face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Yes, what is that supposed to mean?” Kathleen chimes in.
“Oh, nothing,” I reply, looking down at my plate. “Just a little inside joke.”
Again, I catch Walker smiling at me out of my peripheral vision but don’t give him the satisfaction of looking up at him. In fact, I do my best to avoid all eye contact throughout the rest of dinner. I even volunteer to bring the dishes into the kitchen just so I can avoid spending any more time around him.
Even as I’m scrubbing the plates, I keep hearing Mary’s words ringing around in my head.
“You need to just get over yourself and go for it.”
“Are you two going to be all right if I leave you alone together?” I look back over my shoulder to see my mom leaning in the doorway.
“Err, what?” I mumble, my heart beginning to race. Did she really just ask me that?
“You two seemed to be going at each other during dinner,” she replies.
“Oh that,” I scoff. “That was nothing. Like I said…just a little inside joke.”
She nods, coming into the kitchen. “And I saw the way he was looking at you.”
My heart rate skyrockets.
Don’t blush. Don’t blush!
I look straight down into the sink and start scrubbing furiously.
“Looking at me?” I ask. God, I feel guilty already, and I haven’t even done anything! Well, not recently anyway…
“Honey, I was your age once,” she says, leaning against the counter. “I know what it’s like to have the attention of a handsome young man.”
“Ew, no! He’s my step-brother! Nothing’s going to happen, okay?”
It takes all of my willpower to stop staring down into the suds and look over at my step-mother, but I’m able to do it. And when I do, I see her examining me like a detective might examine a criminal. Suddenly, I feel like I’m five years old again and I’m being asked by my dad whether or not I went into the pantry and ate the Oreos he specifically told me not to eat.
“Okay,” she finally says. “Your father and I are going to Manny’s for coffee and dessert. Would you like us to bring you back some cheesecake?”
“Sure,” I reply, thankful to be talking about anything other than Walker. “Thank you.”
Part of me is ecstatic when I hear her and my dad go out to the car and pull away, but another part of me is freaking out because it means I’m now alone in the house with Walker…and that’s bad. Really bad.