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)
“His wife left him seeing as he cheated on her when she was in the third trimester of her pregnancy with my older brother. Real catch, that fuckin’ guy.”
He was.
Not.
Javi kept going.
“But she took him back and they kept on building their family. By the way, that bitch didn’t encourage her husband to look after his by-blow kid either.”
I kinda remembered Julia and Cath’s mom thinking her poo smelled of roses. I also kinda remembered it was weird they were so sweet when their mom waltzed around like someone should be rolling a red carpet out for every step.
Though, I’d never seen his/their dad.
“They’ve finally divorced,” Javi shared. “So it’s no surprise, now that she doesn’t have his balls in a vise and she’s not holding his infidelity over him to get her way, he’s blowing up my phone and ambushing me on my doorstep.”
“I hate he’s putting you through this, Javi.”
“I hate it too.”
“Um…how’s your mom now?” I asked hesitantly.
There was no hesitancy in his answer.
“Medicated. Void. Not there. She lives in her head, Harlow. Eventually, it took over. She was manic. She had hallucinations. She’d harm herself. The ma I’d sometimes have when I was a kid was all gone. The best they can do for her is fill her with pills and keep her peaceful. Honest to fuck, I don’t know, when she wakes up, if she even understands she lived the day before.”
Good God, that was so awful.
And seriously, I couldn’t hack this, not having to do it so far away.
“Can I come to you?” I requested.
“Do you wanna?” he asked like a dare.
His question had my head jerking.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Babe, I considered whoring myself so my ma could eat.”
“I—”
“There were weeks, sometimes months, I didn’t take a fuckin’ shower.”
“Javi—”
“Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, freaked because I was sleeping too soundly, and I was pissed at myself because, you go that deep, you take the chance of not waking up in the morning.”
“Because it’s cold in the winter?” I queried.
“No. Because someone else off their head doesn’t mind sticking you full of holes so he can have your blanket.”
God.
Javi.
“That stuff you said to me, the other night, was it about your sisters?” I guessed.
He jerked up his chin. “Yeah. Some of it. Most of it was me trying to make sure you kept well clear of me. That didn’t fuckin’ work. The minute I saw I hurt you, I couldn’t stand it.”
God.
Javi.
I totally couldn’t hack this, not all the way across the island.
“Please let me come to you,” I whispered.
“I’m not that boy anymore,” he said.
“I know you aren’t, honey,” I replied.
“But he’s always in me.”
“Okay.”
His gaze grew intent on me, so much so, I felt like I’d suddenly been engulfed in an inferno.
“I want you so fucking much,” he growled.
I went solid.
“Not because you’re that pretty rich girl who wouldn’t ever look at me because I’ve got about two years of schooling and not much else,” he declared. “Because when you walk, your ponytail flips side to side.”
“Wh-what?” I stammered, taken back by what he said, which not even in my wildest imaginings was something I ever thought he’d say.
“You’re just like”—he threw his hand up in front of him to indicate me—“walking sunshine. My life was dark, Harlow, in a way you will never get. And you’re sunshine.”
Dang, dang, dang.
The tears hit and there was no hope for it.
I started crying.
A muscle in his jaw worked watching me do it, even as he said, “I struggled, being so fuckin’ into you. I can’t bring dark into your life.”
I huffed out a humorless laugh and, still crying, said, “Obviously, I didn’t have it as bad as you. Nowhere near. But it wasn’t always strawberries and cream at the O’Neill residence.” He opened his mouth, but I said, “What I’m telling you, Javi, is that I’m not scared of the dark.”
“So why’d you put me off?”
God, I was such a dork.
And I’d totally messed this up.
I should have known he’d need at least a sign.
“I didn’t. You didn’t go for it,” I said lamely, dashing at my tears.
“Man like me, Harlow, woman like you, it has to be you.”
I saw that.
He was still wrong, of a sort.
“I wanted you to pursue me.”
Yep.
Again lame.
“I’m kind of…traditional…in some ways,” I admitted. “Like, I can open my own doors, but I really like it when you open them for me. Also like, if a guy likes me, he’s the one who needs to ask me out.”
He rested his weight into his hands spread wide at the edge of the island, muttering, “Shit.”
“It’s not something I could tell you, but maybe I could have given you a hint,” I said morosely, and finished, “Though, I don’t know how I’d do that, at the same time I thought you knew.”