Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 34166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
“Yeah.” My brother picks up at what I would consider the last ring before it goes to voicemail.
“Jace, please don’t hang up,” I beg even though I can hear the annoyance in his tone.
“Got five minutes, then I need to be back inside the plant.” He says gruffly. I guess at least he’s giving me this.
“I’m sorry for keeping Locke and me a secret. I’m not sorry for falling in love.” I lay it all out. He’s quiet for a smidge too long, and I take the phone from my ear to see if he hung up on me. At this point, nothing would surprise me with the way he’s been acting lately.
“Jace, I can’t stand us being at odds,” I say with a pleading in my tone.
“You know, any other time, it’s you doing this to me, going quiet, tuning me out. Now that the tables have turned, you want me to just skate over the fact that this has been going on behind my back for who knows how fucking long. Sorry, Jade, for needing a few fucking days to get my shit straight.” He’s not wrong. He’s also not right.
“And I want you to take all the time you need, but can you at least answer my texts? I’ve already had enough scares this week, and you left like a bat out of hell on your bike; I could hear it from the hospital room. So did Mom.” I tag on the last half because I saw her face pale, her head lifted to the sky, and she muttered a prayer under her breath when she came to check on us.
“Fuck, hitting me right in the heart, baby sis.” Water clouds my eyes. Attempting to blink them away is impossible. I think everything is catching up with me—the worrying over Locke between the accident, the emergency surgery, and then making sure physical therapy was lined up. It’s been a lot. Then there’s my big brother, acting like a jackass, though I know he probably isn’t feeling much better under that tough-guy exterior.
“It’s better than the balls.” I try to bring some laughter to ease the heaviness.
“That’d hurt. Then I’d have to come up with a way of getting you back, and it’s not like we live at home and, fuck me, you’re basically living with Locke.” There’s a gentle teasing to his tone with a smidge of a yuck-that’s-gross undertone.
“I don’t technically live here yet. I will be here for a while, though. He’s not the best patient. Kind of like somebody else I know.” Jace is terrible, worse than Locke. He’d be pushing himself to the limits if roles were reversed. Now that I think of it, I probably should end this call sooner rather than later. I’ve yet to leave Locke alone with the physical therapist, choosing to be there for the entirety so I can implement the exercises on the days he doesn’t have someone come to the house to walk him through it.
It’s been impossible to keep his hands off me or my hands off him. My mouth taking care of him and his fingers doing the same to me is only going to last so long. Locke’s been pushing for more, and while I’d love nothing more than to sink down on his length, the thought of hurting him makes me stop every single time.
“What is this, Pick on Jace Day?” My brother lets out a small laugh.
“Maybe.” The line goes quiet. I have so much to say, but I know our time is coming to an end. Jace might be wild and free when it comes to his motorcycle and his time off work, but when he’s on the clock, he’s a totally different guy—he’s laser-focused.
“Give me a few more days, yeah? I’m at the plant again. Not sure what’s going on. The head honcho seems have to vanished into thin air. I’ll cool down more, settle into the idea of my best friend and my baby sister together, and get my ass over there to hang with him.” He’d also be giving me a slight reprieve to go out, pick up groceries, medicine, and a few more outfits from my place.
True to their word, Ronnie and the girls set up a meal train. Locke’s parents and my mom have also helped. Still, when you’re home for three meals a day, having drinks that consist of coffee for me and the occasional soda for Locke, it means groceries dwindle down quickly. I might not be able to cook, but cleaning, picking things up, and taking care of Locke comes easy.
“Three days, but answer my texts, and if you don’t show up by then, I’ll come knocking,” I threaten. Not like it’ll do much. Still, it puts my mind at ease. “Oh, and make time to call Mom. Please, Jace.” You would think I’m the older sibling. I remind him about birthdays, important dates, what to get Mom for Mother’s Day, Father’s Day—yes, that last one because she stepped into double duty—her birthday, and Christmas. That’s not all. The man shows up when I have things planned, puts in his portion monetary wise, and then acts surprised when he sees what was purchased for our mother.