Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78024 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78024 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
The way they are together reminds me of what Mila said. That the women in the MC stuck together. That sort of girlhood solidarity is something I’ve seen over and over on the screen, but never really experienced. Can you long for something and be afraid of it at the same time? That’s how I feel. Like wanting to plunge into the ocean on a hot day, but not being able to see the bottom.
“Not anymore,” Anne points out. “Quinn would be the newest.”
“Oh, um, I’m not…” This is awkward. “Hi. I guess everyone sort of knows about me already, but I’m Quinn, and this is Erika.”
“I’m so sorry. They told me to be cool but I just need to get this out of my system and then I’ll be totally normal.” Paige lets out a tiny squee. “I looooove the show. You guys are so good in it and I can’t believe we’re here just sort of, hanging out.”
Erika grins. “Do you want a picture?”
“Yes. Absolutely yes,” Paige says with an eager nod.
Colt does the honors, taking a picture with Paige between me and Erika, all three of us smiling and throwing peace signs. It starts a chain reaction, Anne breaking next, and even the others who I don’t think have watched yet getting in on the fun.
I look at all the stuff in the living room. “I don’t even know what to say. This is… I really don’t know. You’re so kind.” I don’t know exactly what they’ve brought, but even just the thought is overwhelming. “This is kind of my first apartment,” I admit. “I’ve always just lived with my Mom before.”
Jess nods. “I know what you mean. Anne and I were pretty lost at first. If it wasn’t for Bonnie I think I would’ve had a breakdown.”
“Who’s Bonnie?”
“My Mom, well, foster mom,” Anne pipes in. “She’s kind of grouchy but pretty awesome. After Tex and the other guys kidnapped us, she—”
Paige claps her hands. “Attention! Nobody is allowed to start talking about how they ended up in the club until after we go through the things. Otherwise we’re going to be here all night and miss the party.” She pulls out her phone and opens an app with a checklist. “First step, let’s go through everything and put the ‘absolutely nots’ to the side.”
I don’t usually cry. I can tear up on command, which is handy during filming, but I’m usually able to hold them back even when I get emotional. This is not one of those times. “You guys are being so kind. I don’t know how I’m ever going to—”
“Nope! All of this is stuff we either had at home or scavenged from the storerooms. You’re doing us a favor by taking it, so use what you want for however long you want it and don’t feel bad if you replace it later. Promise?”
“Promise.”
“It’s true. I took over my grandmother’s house last year and after I finally went through everything I had like three sets of kitchen stuff. She had a good eye, but she loved yard sales a little too much,” Willow says.
By the time the whirlwind has passed through my apartment, the coffee table is back in place and the TV has an actual stand, I have a new armchair, throw pillows and a blanket for the couch, a whole mess of mismatched cutlery, cooking utensils and pots and pans, and even art on the walls. Erika and I try to help, but we’re mostly left to point and give advice while the rest of the team gets to work.
Willow and Jess hung up a black and white picture series of shirtless bikers posing next to their bikes along highways with dramatic backdrops, like cityscapes, mountains or a giant bridge. I’m pretty sure they’re not Outlaw Sons, but they sure are nice to look at. Not as nice as the real thing, though. I glance over at Colt who’s been staying out of the way when not asked to lift, reach or hammer.
Anne comes up to us as Dakota and Jess argue about where to put the various knick-knacks and decorations. Things I’ve never even thought of but help make the apartment feel less like a box and more like a home. “Um, I was wondering…” She chews her bottom lip.
“It’s okay.” Erika smiles from the bar stool she has perched herself on. “What’s up?”
“I was wondering if I could have your autographs.” She pulls out two promo posters, one of Erika and one of me, both of us in our costumes.
“Of course. I remember the day we had to take those shots. It was so freaking warm in the studio, and they didn’t have my costume properly fitted yet, so my corset was pinned together in the back. One of the pins popped mid-shoot and I think there’s a video somewhere of the exact moment it happened.”