Total pages in book: 15
Estimated words: 14267 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 71(@200wpm)___ 57(@250wpm)___ 48(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 14267 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 71(@200wpm)___ 57(@250wpm)___ 48(@300wpm)
As the door closes behind her and the taxi speeds off, the ache in my chest spreads and hollows me out.
There goes the love of my life. The only woman who made me want to become a better man.
6
CAROLINE
The only reason I asked for space was because Callum’s words struck me so deeply I was surprised I didn’t crumple on the ground. He said the same exact thing I felt.
Besides, I didn’t think it was real. Love at first sight? Or, more aptly, love at first fuck.
It’s the stuff of rom-coms and fairy tales. It doesn’t happen in real life. Right? But there’s no other explanation for it. From the moment we talked to each other and all the other times we’ve spent together, I always felt light and happy with him. He’s good-looking, sexy, and funny. All those things are true, but there’s also a deeper reason. Something I still can’t explain, as though a part of me waited for him long before I knew he existed.
That night at the club, the pull was so strong it should have scared me, should have sent me running the other way. But the universe had other plans. Of all the people who could end up being my stepbrother, it had to be him.
What a sick, awful joke.
My dad is going to cut me off and kill me, probably in that order or in reverse, I don’t know anymore. I’m not sure what he’ll do to Callum, even if he’s married to Callum’s Mom. God, my thoughts are all over the place. Part of me wants to call Callum, but the other part wants to really think this through. I have to since it will change the course of my life—for better or worse.
I’m still mulling over what to do when my phone buzzes.
Sperm Donor: Breakfast at 7
Yes, I have that saved as my contact because the choice is either Deadbeat Dad—kind of inaccurate as of now because he pays for everything, and I’m mighty glad I don’t need to take on several jobs to get through college—or Sperm Donor. I chose the catchier and funnier of the two.
I respond with a thumbs-up because I can’t be bothered with a proper reply. Dad will hate that, but whatever, he’ll be furious no matter what I do.
Throughout the taxi ride home last night—thank God for non-chatty drivers who respect my need for silence—I found myself thinking back to the vulnerability in Callum. The raw honesty was so rare in my life that I had no idea how to react. It was just too much, too soon, even though I was well aware he was speaking for both of us. He felt the same thing I did. The only problem was he had enough strength and daring to follow his heart, and I didn’t … at least not yet.
Callum will be at breakfast; that’s for sure. And after the way I left last night, I don’t know what to expect. I told him I needed time and space, but really, I’m just trying to process my feelings. If I stop lying to myself, I can just fling myself to him, and we’ll ride off into the sunset. But that’s easier said than done.
What happens to me, then? My content creator money isn’t enough to finance my last year in college unless I put in more time and effort. I mean, sure, I can quit school and go full-time as an influencer, but I promised Mom I would come home with a degree. I always fulfill my promises, especially to her. If she finds out my dad has cut me off, she’s going to work double shifts at the pharmacy again.
I don’t want that to happen. My decisions, my consequences.
My mind is tangled in a mess of worries, doubt, and overthinking. I can’t sort them out.
The drive to Dad’s mansion is a blur, and even with the windows open, which I usually love, I can’t seem to get into a better mood. After this breakfast, I might just bury myself in the mattress and sleep the whole day. Or the whole week.
I arrive in the exclusive neighborhood where every house has at least a few acres of land, an Olympic-sized pool, tennis court, or a luxurious home theater. It’s a place I don’t belong and never will, and that’s okay with me.
I park beside Dad’s Aston Martin. My Toyota Camry looks laughable beside his sports car, which is priced north of $200,000. The vehicle can pay for the rest of my college and let me provide for Mom for the rest of her life, but oh well, that’s life, I guess. It’s never fair.
My mind is still elsewhere as I walk to the massive front door, and I barely notice the footsteps behind me, soft but deliberate. It’s not until I catch a shadow alongside mine that my stomach drops, and I whirl around, my heart pounding like a drum.