Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Woes of having a medical condition they couldn’t quite put their finger on prior to a million invasive procedures.
Before I have the opportunity to make a rebuttal, the door to my room swings open revealing a fair skinned face, I can honestly say was the last I expected to see. “Harv?”
“Harv?” My best friend’s blue words darken through the air at the same time he turns towards the opposite direction. “Who the fuck is Harv?”
Oh, this is about to get awkward.
“Number Seventeen?” Slater’s brow pulls tightly together when his gaze swings back to mine. “Since when are you on a first name bases with Number Seventeen?”
Really. Awkward.
“And are those fuckin’ roses?” He growls, jagged letters darting like arrows at my ex-boyfriend. “Why the fuck are you bringin’ her roses? Is that a new protocol I’m unaware of?”
Really. Realllyyyyy. Awkward.
“Thank god you’re alright, Arlette,” he sighs, pink shades catching me by surprise. “I came as soon as Yi informed me.”
“Not as soon as you heard if you stopped for fuckin’ flowers.”
“They have some in the giftshop, Wahl.” Our salt and peppered haired boss bites back yet keeps his focus on me. “How are you?” He cautiously approaches from the other side of the bed. “How are you feeling?” The vase finds its way onto the empty stand beside me. “You look…” his mouth bobs around in search of the right words, “better than I was expecting.”
Seeing his concern in both his expression and his words effortlessly melts me into the mattress.
“I was,” the pause he takes precedes him kindly reangling my pillow, “worried when Yi told me about the attack.”
“You never worry.” My head cocks to the side on a mirth-filled grin. “You’ve always claimed it was one of your best traits.”
“Because it is.” A small smirk is flashed. “However, the truth is, I do worry. But only when it comes to you.”
Surprise heats my cheeks and forces me to look away in hopes of hiding my blush.
That’s new.
Not just the worry thing but the openly admitting something emotional.
“You’re not the only one,” Slater proclaims, electric blue lettering summoning my stare to his. “I must’ve checked my phone over a hundred times waitin’ for you to text me last night.” He tugs the pillow Harv just moved back to its previous position. Pats it as if that’s where it belongs. “I swear had Yi not called when he did, I probably would’ve started arrangin’ a rescue mission.”
Seeing the playfulness return to his speech brightens my beam like only he can. “So, do you want me to call you Doctor McHunky or Hawaii Hunk 0 instead?”
“Honestly, it’s whatever you want, Angel Cake. As long as hunk is in the title, I’ll consider it a win.”
Laughter isn’t allowed to bounce between us for long due to Harv’s throat clearing and casual blanket tucking near my thigh. “Surprised to see you here, Wahl.” Their eyes lock in the space in front of me. “Did Yi call you as some sort of courtesy?”
“I’m her emergency contact.”
“He is?”
“I am.”
There’s no ignoring the flickers of red in Harv’s speech. “Since. When?”
“Since. Always.”
“Well, not since always,” I mumble to myself prior to actively joining the conversation, “but for…a…while now.”
“Five almost six years to be exact,” Slater smugly announces, fingers nonchalantly yanking the sheet free from his side of the bed.
“Is that exact?” I less than quietly ponder. “That still feels like an estimate to me.”
“Why is he your emergency contact?” Harv’s question receives my gaze. “Are you two…” another throat clearing occurs like he’s trying not to choke on the words, “together?”
“No,” my head quickly moves to emphasize the answer, “we’re just friends.”
“Just. Friends?” Slater gripes, typical blue waves coming out in an almost purple shade as if he’s trying to keep anger at bay. “Now, I know you definitely need a CT scan, Angel Cake.”
Redirecting all my attention can’t occur faster.
Holy shit, did I miss something?!
Did we…Are we…?
Were we professing our love together and I passed out from shock and hit my head on the way down because that would be a strange but very much so an us type of story.
“We’re so much more than just friends,” he reassures, sending the butterflies I had trained to stay relatively dormant into a frenzy. “We’re family.”
Oh.
Right.
Talk about anticlimactic.
Disappointment does its best to remain out of sight during my slow nod of agreement. “Yeah, we’re…that.”
It’s Harv’s turn to release an arrogant sound in the form of a hum. “But you’re not a couple,” his fingers smooth out the folded sheet in front of me, “correct?” He waits for my gaze to meet his yet again. “You’re still available for discussions revolving around our relationship?”
“Your. What?!”
And now we’ve reached the next circle of hell awkward.
“You’re datin’ our fuckin’ boss?!” Slater practically shouts at the same time he springs to his feet, a sea of red letters spilling all over me. “How could you not fuckin’ tell me that?!”