Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
The loud, happy voices emanating from the backyard make all four of us turn toward the French doors. It’s still early, but there are already about forty people on the patio and enjoying themselves in the pool. I smile while watching Uncle Craig flip burgers and hot dogs. He’s broken out his blue Superman apron and is laughing with one of the neighbors as he takes a swig from his beer bottle. If the entire football team turns out like they did last year, he’ll have to man the grill for the entire afternoon.
Catching sight of a few teammates, Noah and Carter exit through the glass doors.
“Slather on some sunscreen!” Aunt Marnie calls after them. When they glance back at her, she points to a couple of yellow bottles on a table near the door. “Safety first.”
Not following the guys outside, I linger behind in the kitchen, giving my aunt a kiss on the cheek. I love spending time with her. Sometimes I feel guilty for thinking it, but she’s the mother I wish I’d been born with.
I gesture at the spread in front of us. “Is there anything I can help with?”
With a critical eye, she surveys the bowls of salads and pastas on the granite island. Instead of hiring a caterer like most working women, she always opts to make food for parties herself. By the looks of it, she’s going to feed a small army. Or the BU football team. They may not be an army, but they certainly eat like one. “Sure. You can help carry these to the table set up out back in about fifteen minutes.”
I nod. “Sounds like a plan.”
Now that the food has been taken care of, my aunt washes her hands and dries them with a towel. As she does, her gaze lingers on my face. “How’s everything going?” Her eyes narrow as she studies me. “Are you doing all right?”
Instead of firing off a response, I force myself to inhale a breath and calmly let it out. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Now that Carter has joined the party, the agitation buzzing through my system gradually dissipates. Yes, I’m irritated with him for his antics the other night, but there’s more to my unease than just that alone. Carter has the uncanny ability of setting me on edge. It’s constant. Which is exhausting.
If her penetrating gaze is anything to go by, Aunt Marnie doesn’t believe me. “Classes are going okay?”
“So far, so good.” I’m a graphic art major. Now that all my general education requirements are out of the way, I was able to fill my schedule with art classes. I tacked on a sociology class—which I love—because I’m interested in the subject.
Too bad Carter ended up in the same section. We’ve never had one class together until now. I don’t even know what he’s majoring in, and yet, we somehow got stuck in Soc 210—Current Social Problems.
Still eyeing me, she hangs up the towel, and tries to suss out the truth. “And living with Noah and Carter is working out?”
I wouldn’t go that far.
But I can’t tell her that.
Stalling for time, I grab a carrot stick from the humongous veggie platter and munch on it while shrugging. “It’s fine.”
Again, my mind tumbles back to the stunt Carter pulled Friday night. He’s lucky he made himself scarce for the rest of that evening or I don’t think I could have been held responsible for my actions.
Any future dates with Logan can be kissed goodbye. I texted the blond frat boy yesterday to see if we could meet up and discuss my living situation in more depth to straighten out any misconceptions he might have.
I never heard back from him, which I’m pretty sure means that my initial assumptions were spot on.
And do you know who I can blame for that?
Carter freaking Prescott.
Aunt Marnie leans against the counter and crosses her arms over her chest. “How are you and Carter getting along?”
“Just as well as we always do,” I say with forced brightness.
It’s not exactly a lie.
She sighs and gently asks, “Have you ever considered cutting Carter some slack?”
My brows slam together, and I straighten to my full height.
Cut him some slack?
The guy is a total asshole. And I’m not one to throw that word around lightly.
“Why would I do that?” If she knew even a tenth of what Carter has said or done to me, she wouldn’t be so quick to make that suggestion.
Aunt Marnie shrugs her slender shoulders and a strange look flickers in her eyes. “Have you ever considered the possibility that if you got to know Carter better, maybe gave him more of a chance, you might find some common ground?”
My mouth tumbles open. “I can say with total honesty that I have never considered that possibility.”
I’d much rather wallop him upside the head. I’m only sorry that his reflexes are good and that he caught the remote control I threw at him the other night before it could smack him in the forehead.