Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“Diddle in peace while eating copious amounts of sour peach rings, you mean?”
I crossed my arms and huffed. “Hair wand. That was a nice save, by the way.”
“What choice did I have? This day was hard enough without having to explain masturbation to Effie.”
“Well, you guys shouldn’t have opened my box.”
“Let’s not talk about your box any more tonight, okay?” He winked.
Jesus.
After another moment of tense silence, he snapped, “Do what you want.” Then he turned and walked out, leaving me alone in the room.
Wow. Such a jackass. It took me a couple of minutes to recover. And I still didn’t know how to proceed. Truthfully, sleeping in my car tonight just to spite him was dumb. I was the only one who would suffer in that equation.
I looked over and noticed the box I’d ordered sitting in the corner of the room. Sure enough, it was wide open, the purple vibrator still in its package, but on full display, covered in a see-through plastic shell. While I was mortified, I was also impressed with Evan’s creativity in conjuring an explanation Effie actually bought.
I sifted through the box. Besides the vibrator, I’d ordered multiple feminine products, including a giant box of overnight pads. I cringed at the idea of Evan having seen all this. I’d also ordered the sour peach rings he’d mentioned. My mouth watered.
Exhausted from driving around all day, I lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. I told myself I was just parking here to think for a bit. I certainly wasn’t expecting to fall asleep so soon after my head hit the pillow.
When I woke up some time later, two little brown eyes were staring back at me.
Chapter 3
* * *
CHLOE
“Oh,” I said groggily, backing up against the headboard. “Hey, Effie.”
She put her index finger to her mouth. “Shh…”
“I’m not supposed to talk?” I whispered.
“My daddy told me not to come in here. But I wanted to look at you.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “It’s a school night.”
“Well, I won’t tell.” I grinned. “What time is it?”
“Past midnight.” She climbed onto the bed and made herself comfortable. “Why were you and my dad yelling at each other earlier?”
I played dumb. “Were we?”
“Is it because of the nightmares he has?”
I drew in my brows. “Nightmares?”
“Yeah. The ones where he calls out your name…Chloe.”
For a moment, the world stopped spinning. Calls out my name?
“He does?” I finally asked.
She nodded.
“Are you sure?”
“It happened twice.”
My insides whirled. “How do you know they were nightmares?”
“I don’t. But when I talk in my sleep, Daddy says I have nightmares. So, that’s what I call it when someone talks in their sleep.”
“Did you ever ask him about it?”
She shook her head.
“I don’t think he’d be happy if he knew you told me that.”
Effie seemed to think for a moment. “How do you know my dad?”
“You didn’t ask him that already?”
“I did. But he didn’t want to talk about you. He told me to go do my homework.”
Exhaling, I took a moment to gather my thoughts. “Well, believe it or not, he used to live with my family when he was younger. He moved in with us when he was a teenager.”
“Because my grandma was sick?”
“Yes.” I nodded somberly.
“He told me about that. He said when my grandma got sick, he went to live with her best friend’s family.”
“That’s right. My mother was your grandmother Carmen’s best friend.”
“That’s so cool.” She smiled, but then it quickly faded. “Was your mom sad when my grandma died?”
“She was very sad. They were best friends from childhood, so much so that she trusted my mother to look after your dad, even if he was almost old enough to take care of himself when she died.”
“How old was Daddy when he went to live with you?”
“He was about seventeen when he first moved in. He was still in high school. Your grandma had to sell the house to pay for her treatments, so he moved in with us when she was in the hospital.”
“How old were you?” she asked.
“Your dad is five years older than me. I was twelve.”
“Four years older than I am now. I’m eight,” she offered.
I smiled. “What time do you have to get up for school tomorrow?”
“Seven.”
“You should probably go to bed before your dad catches you in here, then. Is he asleep?”
“I don’t think so. I heard him talking to his girlfriend on the phone.”
Girlfriend. My heart sank. Why did that bother me? I guess old habits die hard.
“She calls him late so they can talk while I’m sleeping,” Effie added.
“How do you know that if you’re sleeping?” I winked.
Effie shrugged. “I stay up sometimes. He tells her he doesn’t have time to talk when she calls him during the day or when we’re having dinner.”