Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 196(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 196(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
According to everyone I know, yes. My brothers mean well. They overcompensate. I'm not sure if they're trying to make up for the fact that Dad isn't here to watch out for me, or if they're trying to make up for the way our mother treats me. Either way, them going overboard doesn't really help.
"Yeah, fuck that," he mutters. "You have brothers for a reason."
"Yes. That reason is biology. Dad shot a lot of—"
"Do not finish that sentence."
"I'm just saying," I say sweetly.
He glares at me for a long moment before his expression softens and a rough bark of laughter escapes his lips. "So…you bullied Sid into pretending to be your date, huh?"
"I didn't bully him. I asked nicely."
"Uh-huh."
"I did."
"Sid doesn't date, Hattie. If he agreed to this plan of yours, it's because you bullied him."
"Whatever." I scowl at him, annoyed and a little hurt. Why does everyone on the planet think dating me is so awful? First, Sidney said it was stupid. Now Tye thinks it requires bullying. Maybe I am destined for a future with a guy like Cory Jenkins.
Ugh. I'd rather die alone.
"You know, I may not be you, but I'm not terrible, Tye," I say, staring at the floor.
"What the fuck? Who said you were terrible?"
"You…" I shake my head. "You know what? Never mind."
He stares at me for a long, silent moment. "There's nothing wrong with you, Hattie," he finally says, his voice soft. "You know that, right?"
I swallow hard. "I know."
"Good, because it's true. I don't give a shit what bullshit our mother tries to put in your head. You're allowed to be whoever the fuck you want. You don't have to be like her or like anyone else, and you don't need her permission to live your life."
My bottom lip quivers. "Thanks."
As much as my brothers annoy me sometimes, they're also always my first line of defense. No matter how many times she's tried to change me since our dad died, they swoop in to remind me that I don't need to change to please her. I adore them for that, more than they know.
"You want to stay for dinner?" he asks after a moment. "I'm cooking."
"No, thanks. I do not need to see you trying to grab Vanessa's ass all night." I scrunch up my nose at the thought. "I have things to do."
"Like what?"
"Things, Tye."
"Uh-huh. Well, those things better not involve Sidney Hawkes," he says, climbing to his feet to stretch his arms over his head. "I'll let this shit ride for my wedding because I know our mother never backs off, and I want you to actually enjoy yourself, but don't get any ideas about trying to make it real."
"I don't have any ideas. He isn't even my type. Besides, you just said he doesn't even date," I remind him, rolling my eyes. "He's doing me a favor because he took pity on me. That's it."
Tye stares at me for a long moment, like he's trying to decide if he should buy that or not. "Right," he finally says. "Well, keep it that way."
"Fine." I snatch my bag off the table before whirling to face him again. "And just for the record…you aren't the boss of me, Tyler Ward."
"You aren't fucking one of my teammates just to get one over on our mother, Hattie."
"Fine," I smirk at him as I sail toward the door. "I'll just bang your coach instead."
His loud laughter chases me out. It also tells me that he knows I'm full of it. His coach is more terrifying than Sidney. He's also three times my age and married.
I stomp toward my car, annoyed and out of sorts. I hate that Tye knows me so well. I hate that our mother gets to me like she does. Mostly, I hate that I let her get to me.
She's been trying to mold me into a more acceptable version of myself for as long as I can remember. I think it was the only thing she and my dad ever fought about until he died. Once he was gone…she went nuts trying to turn me into a replica of her. And to her, women should be pretty, desirable objects who make the men in their lives look good.
I'm not that. I'll never be that, and I don't want to be that. I just want to live my life on my own terms. But she's never going to quit trying to shrink me into a predesigned box I was never meant to fit. And still, I let it bother me.
I sigh, climbing into my car before tossing my bag into the passenger seat. I'm barely out of Tye's ridiculously long driveway before my phone rings.
My brows furrow at the unknown number.
"If you're selling something, I'm on my way to prison for smuggling drugs in my vagina, so I can't use whatever it is," I say as soon as I answer.