Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 27906 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27906 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
“Don’t call me dude,” scolds Wes like normal.
“I’m happy she’s getting the opportunity she deserves. I really am.”
“You just don’t know what that means for you in her life.”
“Right.”
“You didn’t talk about it?”
“She ghosted me.” My fingers resume spinning the glass in place. “She found out when we got off stage, rushed to her room to call them back, book a flight, and pack.”
His slow nodding somehow convinces me to keep talking.
Block silence from settling.
“Which is fine, I guess.”
“Being ghosted?”
“Yeah. I mean…this was just supposed to be a fling, you know?”
“I know that flings are all you’ve done for quite a while now.”
“Between getting the app off the ground – the tests, the prep, the bugs – and bracing for this demo tour in LA, Manhattan, Chicago, and West Palm Beach followed by the official launch in Highland, flings are all I’ve got time for.”
“No, they’re all you’ve made time for.”
Culpability callously clogs my vocal cords a second time.
“This is your project, J.T. You make the rules. You make the schedules. You determine the meetings. You are in complete control; however, there are a few things in life more important than deadlines and boardrooms and shareholders and money. And when we discover those things, we must do whatever it takes to have them. Keep them.” He warmly smirks. “You once took the time to remind me of that when I needed to hear it most, so consider this as my moment to return the sentiment.”
Chapter 9
Janae
The worst part of being a twin?
Knowing what they’re thinking when you don’t wanna know what they’re thinking.
“Stop judging me,” I hiss from across the passenger seat of our rented SUV.
“I’m not judging you.”
Hitting him with a sarcastic stare causes him to roll his eyes in exasperation.
“Okay, I’m not outwardly judging you.”
“Stop inwardly judging me.”
“Give me more to work with.”
“Jer!”
“What?!” he croaks in tandem with pulling up to a stoplight not far from the airport. “You’re the one that’s just up and ghosting the dude.”
“I’m not just ghosting him!”
“Oh, so then why isn’t he driving you to the airport?”
“I…um…” Unfortunate familiar cravings cross my tongue forcing me to mess with my hair instead. “He…” My fingers begin combing up the back of it to create a high pony. “It’s too early.”
“Did he say that?”
A long lull passes before I meekly reply, “No.”
“Did you offer him the chance to decide that?”
Uncomfortable silence yet again appears first. “No.”
“Did you even give him a chance to figure out when he can see you again?”
Combing becomes frantic. Chaotic. “No.”
“If he can see you again?”
“No.”
“And the refs say…” he cups his ear as if listening to an actual third person, “it’s a personal foul. Ghosting.”
“That’s not a real foul.”
“It is in our personal lives.”
“Why are you giving me so much shit for this?”
“Why do you pick work over everything else?”
“Why do you?!” I defensively squawk and turn my frame to better face him. “Why is it only a problem when I do it?!”
“It’s a problem when I do it too!”
His admission successfully silences me.
“Unlike you, Nae, I haven’t found a reason to change it.” He takes the right towards the drop off area. “Hell, I haven’t even found a reason to think about changing it.” His hoodie bearing shoulders innocently bounce. “Yeah, ball comes before everything else except you, but one day I want that shit to change. I wanna have a life outside of the court.” Creeping up to the curb allows him to finally find my stare again. “You’ve had all these opportunities and maybe they weren’t worth it, but I think this one is.” Jer shifts into park. “And I think you think this one is. And maybe that scares you more than you can admit which is the underlying reason why you ghosted him.”
“Maybe it does and maybe it is,” escapes just above a whisper. “But this is my dream gig, Jer. I have to go after it.”
“I’m not saying don’t. I’m just saying…maybe learn to have room for both the dream gig and the dream dude in your life.”
A small nod of acknowledgement is followed by me leaning over to hug him.
“Although, you already have the dream brother,” he mirthfully adds. “Maybe you don’t need anything else.”
Warm laughs are attached to a kiss goodbye on the cheek. “I’ll text you when I land.”
“And you’ll text J.T. when…?”
Instead of answering, I simply grab my suitcase from the back, wave goodbye, and shuffle off to make my flight.
Post fast passing through security – benefit of traveling all around the globe for work – I swing by Mocha Loca Casabloca for a cup of coffee, the absurdly long line the perfect opportunity to take out my phone to text J.T.
Except what do I say?
Thanks for the best sex of my life?
Thanks for being the best friend I’ve ever had?