Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 121887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
It was neat as a pin.
Most girls would see the guy they were interested in could clean up after himself and have to fight doing cartwheels.
Not me.
Seeing this, a chill swept up my spine.
Of course, I thought men should be capable of looking after themselves. Cleaning their own house. Doing their own laundry. Being able to navigate a grocery store with more than a small amount of expertise. Having more than a single signature dish their mom taught them to make in their cooking repertoire.
But, honest to God, it looked like the coffeemaker had just been taken out of the box.
I didn’t have time to dwell on that when I heard the shower go off upstairs.
I didn’t suspect Javi took a long time primping, and although we had plenty of time to get me to work, I hadn’t had my phone in my hand in nigh on ten hours, and I needed to catch up on my life.
I found my crossbody, pulled out my phone, and saw I had a ton of texts, mostly from the Angels, but alarmingly, there was one from my mother.
First (and yes, I was procrastinating), I went to my email in order to find the Google form so I could log in my nibbles for the Oasis meet tonight (I picked pigs in a blanket).
Then, with no small amount of trepidation, I opened Mom’s text.
As you know, your brother’s birthday is soon, so perhaps we can get together and plan?
She put a question mark at the end and included a “perhaps,” but it was still an order.
And the “as you know” intimated that it should have been me who instigated the planning.
My last birthday, they took me to Mastro’s (their favorite restaurant, it was lovely, but it wasn’t my favorite) and gave me a check for five hundred dollars, “Because we know you struggle to make ends meet considering your job.”
Easton’s last birthday, we went to Binkley’s, which was one of those one-seating a night, you-ate-what-the-chef-put-in-front-of-you, very-expensive (though, worth it) places because Easton was a foodie and had been dying to go there.
And they gave him a five-day trip to an all-inclusive on St. Thomas, “Because you work so hard, you need a break.”
Granted, when Mom handed him the envelope that included his travel details, Dad had a sour look on his face, and he avoided my eyes, because he knew I knew that all-inclusive didn’t cost five hundred dollars.
But that had been my life.
Harlow, The Disappointment.
Easton, The Golden Child.
“All good?” Javi asked, making me jump.
I looked at him.
His hair was wet and combed back but already curling around his ears. His face was clean-shaven, which was both a boon and a bummer, because he looked good with stubble and without. His jeans fit him their usual fantastic. His short-sleeved, black thermal stretched tight against his pecs and at his biceps.
And again, I was struggling with my desire to take this slow.
“My brother’s birthday is coming up,” I told him.
He stopped close to me and his brows rose in question.
“Mom wants to get together and plan,” I continued.
“Okay,” he said leadingly, since it was obvious there was more there, I had just stopped talking.
“She’s a Boy Mom,” I explained.
He appeared perplexed. “A what?”
“A boy mom,” I said.
One side of his lips tipped up. “I could guess that, since she’s your mom and you have a brother.”
“No, Javi, she’s a Boy Mom. Like, there is no love in her life that will be more special than the love she has for her son.”
He was back to perplexed. “That’s not good?”
“Well, I might be wrong, but I think there are all kinds of love. And they’re all special in their own way. The love you have for your husband. The love you have for your friends. The love you have for your children. It’s debatable, but if you have to have one that’s more special than all of them, I think it should be for your partner. You’ll share the rest of your life with him…or her. This doesn’t mean you don’t absolutely adore your children, want the world for them and would do anything for them. I’m saying, if forced to do something unnatural, say, you had to pick the most special because someone was pointing a gun at your head, I think your life partner should be your choice.”
Javi didn’t say anything.
“Boy Moms pick their sons, and everyone else…” I let that trail off as understanding dawned on Javi, and it was then I remembered, when I was with Javi, I was existing in Javier Montoya’s Overprotective Zone, where all the lights were red and there was no exit, so I should learn to be more careful. Therefore, I rushed to add, “It isn’t that big of a deal.”
“She fuck you over because her boy is more important than her girl?” he growled.