Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 93683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
I’m all for endless slumber parties.
Post putting on a mask and plopping onto the rolling stool beside him, I professionally inquire, “Do you have a latex allergy or sensitivity?”
“Uh…” Bronny pulls his lips to one side in contemplation, “I don’t think so?”
“You wanna be emancipated, Mimi, yet you don’t even know your own allergies?”
“That album is one of the few I have listened to outside of my preferred decades,” informs the music man himself.
“I know I’m allergic to being told what to do all the time,” he complains in tandem with slamming his head backwards.
“Meaning?”
“Meanin’ I hate that no one talks to me about what I want. Hashtag FFS.”
“Believe it or not,” my gloves get slid into place, “I actually get that.”
“You ain’t gotta use hashtags in rego convo,” scolds the other male in the room upon his inching closer.
“And what is Jukes not talking to you about?”
“About where I wanna go to school.”
Grabbing my mini mirror is accompanied by me asking, “You don’t wanna switch schools?”
“I don’t know that I wanna switch states!”
“States?”
“Yeah. They-”
“Thayne and Grams?”
He enthusiastically nods and resumes explaining, “Think it’d be better for me to jus’ officially move here and go to school instead of goin’ back home where they think I’d get into trouble again.”
“You would get into trouble again,” Thayne immediately declares.
“You don’t know that!”
“Of course I know that! You’re barely stayin’ out of trouble now!”
“Tryin’ to make myself lunch isn’t gettin’ into trouble!”
“Damn near burnin’ down my kitchen ‘cause you’re busy tryin’ to take a dick pic’ is!”
“It wasn’t that bad!”
“Tell that to the insurance company!”
“Enough!” I huff prior to angling my frame to completely face Bronny. “Open.” His jaw instantly drops granting me access. “Wider.” Having him unable to talk creates the perfect opportunity for me to get more information about the situation uninterrupted. “Thayne, where exactly do you and Grams think Bronny is gonna live if he moves here?”
“What kinda question is that?” He scoffs as I move the object around in his brother’s mouth to begin my visual examination. “The same place he lives now.”
“Except,” I less than politely snip, “when the season begins – which we aren’t that far from – your ass is constantly traveling, so who’s responsible for him then?”
“You.”
It’s impossible to stop my head from swiveling around in disbelief. “Excuse me?”
“You’re already helpin’ me raise him now, I jus’ assumed you’d keep helpin’.” An innocent shrug is coyishly offered. “That wrong?”
“Kinda yeah!”
Perplexity promptly pierces his stare.
“You can’t just make major, life-changing decisions for us by yourself! That’s not how an ‘us’ works! That’s not how relationships work! There’s a reason that both Marvin Gaye and Rob Base sang about it taking two.”
He struggles not to grin over the music references.
“Look, dragging me to a team event – without consulting me first – was one thing, but this is a whole other. Think of that like signing me up to spontaneously do karaoke and this like signing me up to record an album and do a world tour.”
Culpability noticeably crumples his shoulders.
“Moving Bronny here – apparently for us to raise – isn’t a call in an audible sort of play, Thayne.” Letting my hands fall to my lap precedes me completely facing him. “It’s like final leg of The Cup shit. Something you plan and prep and practice for.”
“You don’t want me here?” Bronny unexpectedly questions, voice so meek it melts me further into my seat.
Shifting my attention back to the teen swiftly occurs. “Of course, I want you here.” The ease at which I rebut seems to only take me by surprise. “I love having you around.”
“When I’m not eatin’ all your craisins.”
“You don’t eat ‘em, you inhale ‘em,” pokes my boyfriend.
“Even then,” I sweetly soothe. “It’s just having you here for a few weeks in the summer versus something full time is vastly different.”
Ignoring the pain in his tone is impossible. “Why?”
“Because there’s a lot more responsibility and pressure that goes with it. You’re a person not a stray puppy.”
“Do you want a puppy?” Thayne unexpectedly inquires, recollecting my glare.
“Seriously?” Bewilderment bursts through my expression. “You don’t think to ask me do I want to help parent the teen, but you have no problem asking me do I want a pet?”
“GASSSPPPPP,” Bronny enthusiastically states forcing our attention back to him. “Can we get a dog?!”
“Oh, so now, you wanna stay?” his big brother challenges.
“More so if we can get a dog.”
“Okay,” my hands are lifted in surrender prior to me refocusing on the patient, “back to what I’m paid to do.” As soon as his eyes are on me again, I instruct, “Open.” Slipping the tool inside a second time allows me to proceed with the exam along with my interrogation. “When exactly did you make this decision for us?”
“It’s not exactly carved in ice.”
Rather than respond to the comment, my fingers slide around to begin inspecting Bronny’s gums.