Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
My stomach let out another loud grumble as I finally took my seat, accepting to have my glass filled with water that Coach was passing around.
“This all looks amazing,” I told him as he took his seat beside me. “I don’t think I’ve seen this much food since Thanksgiving,” I added. And maybe not even then.
There was a clatter of passing dishes, and I watched as both Coach and Detroit started to pile up my plate before they passed on the bowls. Before I knew it, there wasn’t an inch of space left.
I was almost glad I hadn’t been able to stomach any of the jail food, because there was no way I would be able to fit all this in otherwise. And one bite of the mac & cheese told me that I wanted to devour every single bite of this food.
“Oh, my God,” I moaned as I tasted it, looking over at Detroit. And I swore, for a second, there was a flash of something heated in his eyes. Something that my body immediately responded to, making me press my thighs tightly together under the table before I forced myself to keep eating.
I had no idea how long it had been since I’d shared a meal with someone. But I guess a part of me had forgotten how nice it could be to share a meal and light conversation.
Everyone tossed playful jabs back and forth, everyone laughing and piping in, making me wonder how nice it must be to be part of this bigger found family that they had. With people who knew you well enough to know what they could tease you about without you getting offended.
I had nothing to add to the conversation as it went on, but I was enjoying hearing it, and occasionally laughing at something someone said.
My mood felt so much lighter by the time Coach and Rook were getting up and gathering dishes.
When I tried to stand to do the same, Detroit’s hand covered mine, stilling the motion as I grabbed for my plate.
“It’s kind of their job as prospects to do the cleaning,” he explained. “It’s their way of paying their dues and proving they’ll be valuable members of the club,” he added.
“Oh,” I said, totally not understanding, but figuring it wasn’t my place to question it.
“You’re an amazing cook,” I told him. “Do you enjoy it?” I added, knowing my mom was a good cook too, but she didn’t love doing it, save for the holidays.
“I do,” he said, nodding. “Cooking for me is what meditation is for Coach,” he explained. “Helps me clear my head and focus. And there’s a good meal at the end of it,” he added.
“I think I like your kind of meditation better,” I decided. I wasn’t going to tell him this, but I was so full that the button on my pants was digging into my belly.
After dinner, the couples kind of made their way off, and Coach drove Rook home before he could get in trouble for being with the club.
“You look like you want to go back to sleep,” Detroit said.
Honestly, I’d been half nodding off in my seat.
“I have some catching up to do,” I agreed.
“Go on up then. You’ll feel better once you’ve had a few more hours.”
With that, I decided he was right.
But not before I took a long, hot, private shower first. And did my skincare. And all the various little before-bed rituals I had.
Then, because the room was so big and empty, I felt like I could hear myself thinking, so I got up and put one of the most mellow records on, playing low, and climbing into bed to pass out.
Only to wake up some time later. Shivering. It felt like the room had dropped thirty degrees since I’d gone to sleep. Even under the bedding the girls had set up and the blanket I’d brought.
I tried to just endure it until it felt like it had seeped into my bones, and I couldn’t ignore it anymore.
Then, knowing I’d never get to sleep without another blanket, I climbed out of bed, and did the only thing I could think to do.
I knocked on Detroit’s door.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Detroit
I wasn’t sleeping.
As fucking ridiculous as it was, I couldn’t, knowing she was one wall away.
I’d gone into the bathroom after she’d gone to bed to brush my teeth, and the scents of her bath products were all around. It’s humiliating to admit even to myself, but I stood there for a second, breathing it in before I snapped myself out of it and went into my room.
I closed the door, leaning back against it, and letting out a breath as I looked around.
Usually, my room felt like a sanctuary. It was where I went to escape the parties when I didn’t feel like partaking.