Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Was that the plan?
“Did you distract me, boy?”
He smirked and climbed off my lap. “That was just a bonus.”
“A bonus as a side to what?”
“The mental lists I’m making so I can anticipate your needs,” he replied with a shrug, then closed the flap on the back of his PJs. I wasn’t sure I approved of that part. “I mean, I’m plain interested too. But knowing the people you love is to know you. And vice versa. Poetic, right?”
I…didn’t know what to say, and he was already heading for the hallway. But Christ, where had this boy come from? He couldn’t claim I was the only one working to become a good partner.
Oh, and he was definitely a switch. The Little in him was always present or very easily drawn out, but it was going to be interesting learning the ways of someone who was a subbie with dominant tendencies.
A sweet, mischievous Little who was a natural at making decisions and taking charge?
He’d keep me on my toes, for sure.
He was in for a rude awakening at some point too, because I couldn’t be bossed around.
I listened as Jordan opened the door and greeted James. After the initial “I missed you today” and “How did it go with Emmett?” Jordan dropped his voice to a whisper, and I only picked up the words, “not staying long.”
“Oh?” James uttered. “I thought we were gonna—”
Jordan shushed him and said something else that was too quiet for me to hear.
For chrissakes, was this gonna be a thing? Because I’d nip it in the bud real fucking quick if Jordan thought he could make decisions for me.
I was gonna let this play out, though. I wanted more evidence and confirmation. More than that, we were in the early stages of figuring something out, so we didn’t have a protocol yet. So…yeah, I’d simply observe Jordan further so I’d be better prepared when we hammered out our rules.
But “not staying long” meant I had to come up with a new plan for tonight. I wasn’t ready to hit the sack for another couple of hours, I’d already eaten, I’d worked out… I guessed I could finish unpacking the new shit for the upstairs bathroom. Ma had ordered a bunch of towels and whatnot for the kids.
I could also sit here in my underwear and listen to Enya.
Nathan Riley
I’d reached a new low.
In a split-second decision, right when Ash had turned the key in the door, I’d discovered that I was suddenly sick.
I’d used my morning voice to let him know I wasn’t feeling well, and he’d swooped in to cover our let’s-get-the-kids-ready-for-school routine for the both of us. So, now…I was just lying here in the living room with the covers pulled up high while Ash prepared breakfast for the children.
My back kind of hurt, though. That was almost like being sick. Which I blamed on this motherfucking pullout couch. They’d promised me at the store that it was comfortable enough to sleep in long-term. They were fucking wrong. I missed my bed. I missed the bed Ash and I had shared for years. I missed having him right next to me.
I yawned and checked the time on my phone.
Another thirty minutes, and then the house would be empty.
“Dad, can I drive?” Dylan asked, coming down the stairs.
“Yeah, sure,” Ash said. “Sweet Jesus, son, how much body spray are you usin’?”
My mouth twitched, and I screwed my eyes shut.
The answer was an obscene amount.
“It’s just one spray!”
“How long is that spray? Sit down—eggs coming up. Milk in the fridge.”
“I like it, Dylan!” Micah said, right before he coughed.
Lily cracked up.
I exhaled and pretended this was an ordinary Friday morning, when everything was fine, when Ash and I would kiss before parting ways for the day, when we had plans for the weekend…
“Youse’re ridiculous,” Dylan huffed. “Where’s Dad?”
“He’s not feeling well,” Ash replied. “I’d say he’s asleep, but youse can’t keep your voices down to save your lives.”
Safe to say, Dylan’s accent came from Ash.
It was a source of amusement in the Riley family, how Lynda and Geoff came from the fancy Main Line, where you absolutely did not say youse or use slang, but both Ash and Theo were rougher around the edges. They had gone to public school, not private, nor, in Geoff’s case, boarding school in Connecticut.
For the record, Ash couldn’t keep his voice down either, but I’d always wanted a loud, rambunctious family—after how I’d grown up. No siblings. A mother who’d gone out every weekend, leaving me alone. Thank fuck, my dad had fought for me. But even so, it’d only been him and me for a long time.
When I’d met Ash and he’d so bluntly described the future he’d wanted, he had written the pages for my future as well.
My chest fucking hurt. Life was happening in the kitchen, and I was here, doing everything in my power to avoid the conversation Ash wanted to have. I knew it was one of two things. Divorce. He’d met someone. Or both. Could be both too.