Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 141464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
The crunch of leaves behind me can only be Rooster.
“You ever think of cutting some trails through here? Like they have upstate?” I ask.
“You want to buy some four-wheelers and go tearing through the woods like we used to at Boone’s?”
No, I want to chase my girlfriend and mount her like a bear, but I don’t think you want to have that conversation.
“Yeah, sure.” I glance over at him. “You still have that app that shows the aerial view and property lines?”
“Yup. Why?”
Because I don’t want to wander onto someone else’s land when I’m stalking my girlfriend and ripping off her clothes. What’s with all the questions, brother?
Rooster has a decent amount of acreage here but it’s nowhere near the amount Upstate has. “I don’t want to end up dropping trees on someone else’s land.”
He pulls out his phone, slides his finger over the screen until he pulls up the right map, then passes it to me. I study the boundaries and markings, then lift my head, staring at the terrain around us. “Can you send me a few screenshots?”
“The property’s marked.” He lifts a slow, sarcastic finger and points at the bright orange POSTED: Private Property sign nailed to a tree about fifty yards away. “You helped me put up the signs.”
“Yeah, but still.”
“All right” he mutters, sliding his fingers over the screen. “Why do I get the feeling you’re up to something more…nefarious?”
Rooster and I share a lot of things, but I’m not about to explain my newly discovered outdoor sex kink to him.
My phone dings several times. I check the photos. “Thanks.”
“You planning to hunt the property?” he asks. “I’ve caught a few big bucks on the trail camera.”
Trail cameras. Fuck. I’ll have to make sure we avoid those. “Yeah, maybe.” I glance at his phone. “Where do you access the trail camera pics? Your phone?”
He frowns at me. “Yeah, why?”
“Just wondering.”
“Are you planning to run naked through my woods or something?”
Or something. I struggle to keep my expression blank.
“Maybe. It’s supposed to help you connect with nature and Vitamin D synthesis,” I manage to say with a completely straight face.
His jaw drops and his scowl deepens. “What the fuck ever. Deer ticks are everywhere down here. Don’t come crying to me when you need one pulled out of your wrinkly ball sack. I ain’t doing it.”
I double over laughing and rub my crotch. “Jesus Christ. Why’d you have to say that. Now I’m gonna have nightmares.”
“That’s what you get for puttin’ the image of you runnin’ around with your cock out in my head.”
Still shaking with laughter, I can’t come up with a response. Finally, I wipe tears from my eyes and tuck my phone away. “Thanks for that.”
He glances at his watch. “Are you done stalling? Aren’t you supposed to meet your brother? You’re going to be late.”
That’s exactly what I’ve been doing. Distracting myself. Delaying this meeting. Rooster knows me too well. “Yeah, I need to change and get going.”
“If you need me, call.” He pats my back, turns and heads toward the house. “Good luck.”
I wait until the door shuts behind him before heading around to the side entrance that leads to my apartment. The second I step inside, the silence hits me. All my shit’s exactly how I left it—not that Rooster would ever invade my privacy. But something feels...off. Still. Too quiet. Like it doesn’t belong to me anymore. Just four walls and a mattress to crash on when I’m passing through.
I strip off my clothes, take the fastest shower known to man, throw on something clean, and hit the road.
I can’t avoid this any longer.
Time to meet my brother.
The kid I forgot about for too long.
The one who reminds me of everything I’d rather leave buried.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Jigsaw
The closer I get to the hotel, the more I regret saying I’d meet him here. Too exposed. Too public. Too many variables I can’t control.
But it’s too late to back out now.
I spot him before I even finish turning into the parking lot—pacing the sidewalk like he doesn’t want to have this meeting any more than I do. Black hoodie, beat-up jeans, and a backpack slung over one shoulder.
My stomach knots.
I roll into a spot and kill the engine. Sit there a second watching him. He’s taller than I remember from our short reunion at Crystal Ball the other night. Restless energy rolls off him—something I recognize all too well.
He seems more than nervous. Untethered. Lost.
I push the door open and climb out, forcing my legs to move.
Cain stops pacing as I approach, eyes flicking to mine, then darting away.
“What’re you doing outside?” I ask, tone gruffer than I mean it to be.
He shrugs. “Needed air.”
I understand more than he realizes. “You want to go somewhere to talk? Grab lunch? Have you eaten?”
Jesus Christ, why am I so fucking awkward around this kid?