Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 70092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
I tap her name and then the little phone icon, putting it on speakerphone on the pillow beside me and close my eyes. It rings three times before she answers. "Hello," she groans out and my eyes shoot open as soon as I hear her voice.
"Gorgeous," I say, my heart starting to speed up as I grab the phone. "What's wrong?”
"I think the shrimp didn't agree with me." Her voice comes out as she huffs out, "I have to let," she says, and then I hear the phone drop to the floor. "Oh my God" is the last thing I hear before she throws up.
I throw the phone to the side and fly out of bed. Running to the walk-in closet and grabbing a pair of boxers and basketball shorts. Pulling a white T-shirt off one of the hangers and rushing down the steps while trying to put it on; only to run back up the stairs to get my phone that I forgot. "Shit," I mumble to myself. I grab a baseball hat from the front closet, while I slide my feet into my sneakers from last night and my car keys on the way out. I put the hat backward as I jog to the car getting in. I connect the Bluetooth, while putting my seat belt on. Starting the car I press the voice button. "Call Travis," I say and look at the clock, seeing if maybe it's too early to call, but by the time I think this, it's already two rings in and he's answering the phone.
"What do I owe the privilege of having you call me this fine morning?" he says and I can hear Charlotte in the background calling Mama.
"Oh, good, you’re up," I huff as I make my way down the street. "I was afraid I would wake you."
Travis laughs out. "It's eight," he says. "It's almost lunchtime for us." I look over at the center console seeing his name and not even understanding what he means.
"I have no idea what that means," I say, my finger tapping the steering wheel.
"I have a child who is almost one; she gets up at the ass crack of dawn," he says. "You'll know when it's your turn."
"Who is on the phone?" I hear Harlow ask him.
"Bennett thought he was waking us up." He laughs and I hear him put me on speakerphone.
"I wish," Harlow says. "The question is, why are you up?"
"I need help," I say. "Presley is throwing up and I think she has food poisoning or something like that."
"She doesn't have food poisoning," Harlow shares. "It's called morning sickness."
"Okay, let's call it morning sickness." I turn and head toward the supermarket, making a mental note to search morning sickness. "What should I do?"
"Run," Travis deadpans, without skipping a beat and I hear Harlow smack his arm. "Ouch."
"She needs to eat saltines and ginger stuff," Harlow says, her voice coming close to the phone. "Anything ginger settles the stomach."
"Okay." I pull into the parking lot of the grocery store. "So ginger ale, ginger tea, gingersnaps."
"How sick is she?" Harlow asks me, worry in her voice.
"I have no idea," I answer honestly. "I called her and she told me that the shrimp didn't agree with her and then hung up on me to go vomit."
"She doesn't know you are going to see her?" Travis asks as I disconnect the phone and get out of the car. I put the phone to my ear as I walk into the grocery store and grab a hand cart.
"What kind of question is that?" I ask Travis as I walk through the produce toward the aisles.
"Listen, I think that you should go over there," Travis says. "But knowing Presley, she's going to kick you in the balls in the middle of throwing up."
"No, she isn't." I laugh and think he might be wrong but it is what it is. I grab two boxes of saltines before rushing over to get some gingersnaps.
"No, she isn't.” Harlow takes my side. "She likes him enough to have sex with him."
"Eww," Travis says. "That's my sister and I'm trying very hard not to think of her doing anything with him."
I laugh now. "We are having a child together."
"Don't remind me," Travis replies. "I'm not over the fact that you broke bro code."
"What?" I ask him, chuckling as I make my way through the grocery store.
"You slept with my sister," he says and I hear Harlow laugh. "How would you like it if I slept with your sister?”
"I don't have a sister," I remind him.
He doesn't have time to answer me because Harlow kicks in her two cents. "Why would you sleep with his sister? Do you want to sleep with someone else?"
"As your attorney, I'm going to advise you not to answer that," I say. "But now that you answered my question, I'm going to let you go."