Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
“We’re called the Battle Duel Boys, BDB for short.” Then, completely changing his tone, as if he just remembered something, he says, “Hey, do you like chocolate chip cookies?”
I laugh at the quick topic change. “Who doesn’t?”
“I made a batch tonight. Wait here, and I’ll bring one for you to try.”
He returns quickly, handing me a cookie between the slats in the fence, our fingers brushing.
The cookie is still warm, and it melts in my mouth. “You made these?”
“Yeah, do you like it?”
My mouth already full with another bite, I can’t help but gush about it. “I love it. Are you kidding?”
“Good, because I brought a few more for you.” He hands a quart-sized bag filled with cookies over the fence. “You can share them with Jessie and Marissa, or keep them hidden all for yourself. I won’t judge.”
“I might eat them all before I go back inside,” I tell him.
“That also works. Speaking of food, we’d like to have dinner with you again sometime. Maybe just the three of us.” When I don’t answer right away, he says, “Or even better, just you and me. I’ll take you out to someplace nice, and we can leave Cam here.”
Maybe it’s because it’s late and I’m tired, but I’m actually tempted, though I’m not sure if I’d rather go out with both of them or with one of them. Cam is entertaining and charming, while Wyatt seems like he’d be someone I could have a long conversation with.
It would be nice to have a grownup night out. And they’re both so attractive. But they’re not the right kind of men for me, despite how nice they’ve been.
“I’m … not dating right now,” I tell him. “There’s just too much going on in my life at the moment.”
“That’s fine,” he says lightly. “If you change your mind, the offer’s good anytime.” After a pause, he says, “I’ll leave you alone with the cookies. Have a good night.”
“Thank you for the delicious cookies. You have a good night, too.”
As I walk back to the house, I experience a pang of regret. Should I have said yes?
I’m drawn to him—to both of them—even though I know better. They’re ridiculously hot, but there’s something that doesn’t sit right with me about how they make their living.
Of course, there’s nothing wrong with what they’re doing; in fact, it’s really cool that they can have fun while they’re earning money. But their lives are on a completely different path than mine.
Maybe if I’d have met them before I had Jessie, I’d feel differently, but I have responsibilities now, and having fun with guys who play with marshmallows for a living just isn’t the right fit.
CHAPTER 13
STELLA
The next day, my mom calls to talk with Jessie. It’s late when she phones, only fifteen minutes before Jessie needs to get ready for bed.
“You should have called earlier,” I say gently, when I tell her she’ll need to keep the conversation brief.
“How would I know when Jessie’s bedtime is?” is her annoyed reply.
I let out a sigh and bite back my retort. We lived with her until not that long ago; she should know Jessie’s bedtime perfectly well. It’s not like the little girl turned into a teenager overnight.
“Here’s Jessie. You can talk for ten minutes.” I hover nearby and hear Jessie say, “I miss you, too,” several times, leading me to assume that my mom is repeatedly telling her she misses her. Maybe she should have thought about that before kicking us out of her house in a drunken rage.
I’m glad we don’t live with her anymore, but I hate how the move disrupted Jessie’s life, and now here’s my mom making Jessie sad. It’s fine for her to tell her she misses her, but she shouldn’t be dwelling on it.
Jessie looks like she’s on the verge of crying.
“It’s time to say goodbye,” I tell her. “You can talk to Nana again soon.”
When the call is over, I tell Jessie it’s time to take a quick bath, but she refuses, saying she isn’t dirty.
“You were running around the yard with Goldfish earlier, so please don’t argue. Oh, and before the bath, you need to pick out three outfit options for tomorrow.”
She folds her arms across her chest. “I don’t want to.”
“That’s fine. I’ll choose something for you to wear.”
“No,” Jessie says, pouting, but she goes to her drawers and starts looking through her clothes.
This sudden change in her behavior is a direct result of the phone call, and I’m pissed at my mom for upsetting her. I’ve talked to Jessie about whether she misses nana and pop pop, and she says, “a little,” but I worry that she’s downplaying her feelings. Even though they weren’t the best grandparents—and that’s an understatement—they’re all that she’s known.
I get Jessie through her bath, read her a story, and am relieved when she falls asleep before I reach the end.