Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
I haven’t exactly cleared this particular little hiccup with Lyra yet, and I have a solid idea of how it’s going to go.
Smooch and Lyra both turn at the sound, while I glance toward her, trying to gauge her reaction as she watches Hunter out the window. Her face scrunches up with irritation, but she keeps her mouth shut, that is until he reaches into the back of his car and pulls out an overnight bag, slinging it over his shoulder before striding up the pathway like he owns the place.
“No,” she breathes, understanding dawning on her.
Shit. “Yep.”
She turns to look at me, her eyes wide and begging. “No.”
I drag my hand down my face, wincing as the words tumble from my mouth. “He lost his home today, too,” I remind her.
She blows out her cheeks, not having a single comeback when Hunter pushes through the door, looking entirely too comfortable for a man who’s carrying all his worldly possessions in a small duffel bag.
His stare immediately falls on Lyra as Smooch launches off her lap and protectively hovers in front of her as though Hunter is the Grim Reaper come to snatch her soul out of her body. “Sup, roomie?”
Lyra clenches her jaw, rage bursting through her eyes before she huffs and turns to me. “How long is this clusterfuck supposed to last?”
I wince again, watching Lyra put a hand on Smooch’s back, instantly calming the dog.
“For the foreseeable future,” I admit.
“Fuck.” Lyra falls back against the cushion muttering to herself as she starts breaking her new phone out of the packaging. “What could possibly go wrong?”
That simple question has Hunter meeting my stare across the room, because she has a good fucking point. The three of us living under the same roof is bound to cause trouble. There’s no question about it. I just hope that whenever that trouble comes, my home manages to survive the wreckage.
Hunter disappears into my home, tossing his bag into the spare room and as Smooch follows him, softly growling, Lyra starts setting up her new phone, becoming consumed by the task.
I drop down on the couch opposite her and scroll through the endless takeout options when my phone chimes with a new notification on our group chat.
I open it immediately only to have dread sink heavily into my stomach.
Lyra has changed your nickname to Lemony Snicket.
I glance up at her across the living room. “Do I even want to know what that’s supposed to mean?”
She silently huffs, rolling her eyes and dropping her gaze back to the phone, choosing to respond with a text, rather than just telling me face to face.
Lyra: You’re a series of unfortunate events.
Hunter scoffs a laugh from the spare room that’s quickly concealed by a cough, and I just stare at her. “I destroyed one apartment complex.”
“You destroyed my apartment, so as the judge and jury presiding over this case, my judgment stands. Nickname is non-refundable.”
“Fuck.”
She smirks to herself, pride shining in her eyes as she pretends to get lost in her phone, and for just a moment, I can’t help but feel as though just a little piece of the heaviness resting on her shoulders has begun to chip away.
Hunter reemerges from his new living quarters and collapses on Smooch’s other side, his hand automatically falling onto the dog’s waist, only to almost get taken off with one quick snap of his sharp jaw. As we wait for our food to arrive, Hunter and I talk shit until the sound of Lyra’s breathing evens out, and I realize she’s fallen asleep on the couch with Smooch snuggled against her lap.
“Shit. Should we move her to the bed?” I ask, not wanting her to get cold or uncomfortable.
Hunter just stares at me. “After the day she’s had? Are you insane? In what world do you think taking the risk of waking her is a good idea? She’d sooner maul you than let that happen. If she’s on the couch, then that’s where she wants to be. Though you should probably move the dog and give her a blanket. A pillow wouldn’t go astray either.”
Shit. He’s right.
Lyra doesn’t need a knight in shining armor that’s going to swoop in and save her. She’s too independent for that. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t help her out on a hard day.
I get her fixed up, and as I gently lift her head and slide a pillow under her face, she sinks right into it, her body relaxing deeper into the cushions as she falls into a more peaceful sleep.
I’m just starting to consider bailing on food and crashing myself when Hunter’s phone chimes, and the second his expression shifts, I know exactly what kind of notification that is.
He’s got a new contract. And suddenly the room doesn’t seem so peaceful anymore.