Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
“You noticed?”
He snorts. “Course I did. I just figured you two would grow out of it. When he left, I thought it was for the best—gave you room to find yourself. I heard you the night you found out he was gone, with no goodbye. You wonder why I’m scared about him hurtin’ you but it’s because I heard the way you cried when he left. It fuckin’ broke my heart.”
I freeze. “You heard that?”
“Yeah, I fuckin’ did. Killed me. I knew how that felt. When he came back, I thought you had moved on enough. Should have known you hadn’t...”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s done, kid. Now go get some sleep. You don’t need to be sitting out here with me all night.”
I rest my head against his shoulder again. “I have missed you.”
He slides his arm around me and pulls me close. “Me too, Mischief. Every damned day.”
We sit there in the hush of the night, two silhouettes on a porch rail, father and daughter bound by love, loss, and the fierce promise that nothing will ever break us apart.
I hope that never changes.
16
I PAD LIGHTLY UP THE narrow staircase, my heart doing somersaults in my chest, each wooden step squeaking. Travis stayed the night, after all the beer he drank, and since then I have been planning to sneak into his room and surprise him, pressing my cheek into the small hollow of his shoulder blade, wrapping my arms around him, and drifting off in each other’s arms. It feels like the perfect little adventure, a spark of childhood mischief crossed with grown-up romance.
Lame? Sure.
But I’m here for it.
I pause at his door and press my ear to the crack, listening for any noise to indicate if he is awake. I hear nothing. The hallway is so dark I can barely make out the outline of his doorframe, just the faint glow of a light down the hall that has been left on. I twist the handle, expecting it to turn with a whisper, but it lets go with a quiet click that sounds alarmingly loud in the stillness.
The room is pitch black. I take a breath, step inside, my bare feet sinking into the threadbare carpet. I tiptoe to the foot of the bed, and with the practiced stealth of a kid who used to sneak through these halls way too effortlessly, I hop onto the mattress. The springs give a polite creak, but I’m too excited to care. I feel the comforting dip in the middle of the bed and slide beneath the covers.
The mattress is soft beneath my knees, the heat of his body familiar and comforting. I shuffle closer, shift the covers, and nuzzle in—only the back I’m snuggling is ridiculously hairy and alarmingly round. My hand brushes against something warm and coarse, and my body flattens against what feels like the world’s largest, most muscular butt. My brain sends a frantic memo: This is wrong. But then I hear it, a soft rumble of breath that doesn’t sound like Travis at all.
I freeze.
The back beneath me jiggles. Cold fear snakes down my spine. I whisper, “Travis?” and my voice cracks. There’s a rustle, a desperate grunt, and then my shriek. The figure in the bed bellows back. In an instant, the darkness is shattered by harsh overhead lights. I stumble backward, accidentally pulling the covers with me, and crash to a sitting position. On the bed, clutching his sides and doubled over, is Bill—completely nude, his legs splayed out without a care in the world, tears of laughter trailing down his cheeks.
He howls again, body shaking.
At the same moment, Chief bursts through the door, shotgun raised, eyes immediately scanning for danger. Behind him is Travis, blinking and trying to focus, boxers hanging low on his hips. I scramble to my feet, hair a tangled mess, pyjamas riding up my hips, and stare at Bill’s devilish grin.
“One second I’m dreaming I’m in bed with the love of my life, and the next I feel... well, I feel a pair of tits squished right against my—” He convulses with another wave of laughter.
Chief’s stern scowl collapses and then he’s roaring with laughter, the kind of laughter I haven’t seen from him in years. He lowers the shotgun, clutching it like a trophy, and leans against the doorframe, shaking his head. Even Travis can’t help himself—his shoulders are heaving so hard he’s nearly bent double.
My cheeks flame. I bury my face in my hands, mortified, but then Bill’s laughter is so contagious it tickles my insides. My shoulders tremble. I peek through my fingers, and as Bill howls yet again, I can’t stop myself, I burst out laughing too, tears pooling in the corners of my eyes, the absurdity of everything washing over me.
Bill finally composes himself, giving me a wink. I glare at him, half angry, half amused.