Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 51525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 258(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 258(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
“Really?” His eyes widen, and I can’t help but to giggle.
“Yeah.”
“All right, cool. Wanna give me your number?”
“Sure.” I shrug, and then I give him my number and take his. We talk for a few minutes more before he takes off.
Once he’s gone, guilt settles in the pit of my stomach like sour milk, and I wonder if I’m somehow betraying Gabe by going out with someone else. I pull in a few deep breaths and remind myself of Shelby’s words from a while back. “Sweetheart, you’re still here, still living and breathing. Gabe would want you to be happy.”
Though she wasn’t talking about me dating, she was talking about me changing out Gabe’s and my bedroom furniture for new stuff. Still, I think she would tell me the same thing in this situation. And Gabe would want me to be happy however that happiness came along.
Wouldn’t he?
Chapter 2
_______________
Denver
“HEY,” AUBREY GREETS ME with a tired smile as soon as she opens the front door. Her hair is a rumpled mess—what it might look like after a hot and heavy round of sex. Her eyes are still sleepy, and her cheeks tinged pink. I run my eyes down her body and fight back a groan when I see what she has on. It’s not exactly sexy, but then again, she doesn’t need to walk around in lingerie to attract my attention. Short shorts that are black with white piping around the edge, a white T-shirt that’s tight and practically see-through, and socks, long ones that go up over her knees, the kind basketball players used to wear with the stripes around the top.
“Lyra is still sleeping.” Her words drag me out of my perusal, and I see she’s already moving away from the door. “I was just getting ready to wake her up,” she tells me, and my eyes drop so I can watch as the bottom of her ass cheeks peek out with every step she takes. She looks at me over her shoulder, and I pull my eyes up before she can catch me ogling her. “I just put coffee on, so help yourself. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
I watch her jog up the steps until she’s out of sight then shake my head, reminding myself that I need to be patient, that in the end, waiting will pay off. I hope so anyway. I’ve been waiting for some kind of sign from her that she’s open to the idea of dating again. So far, I’ve been waiting in vain. She’s cordial at best when we interact. If I didn’t see her obvious attraction to me whenever we come face-to-face, I would feel like an idiot for waiting this long for her.
I carry the bag I brought with me into the kitchen and unpack the contents onto the counter. I pull out a pan and place it on the stovetop to warm up. I add butter to the pan so it can melt then take out a bowl for the eggs. I don’t start cracking them, because that’s Lyra’s favorite part. Instead, I get to work opening ten single slices of Kraft cheese then cut up some honey-smoked ham and place it in a bowl.
I hear both girls coming down the stairs then the sound of tiny feet coming toward the kitchen. I rinse my hands off and turn just in time to see Lyra’s hair in a ponytail flying behind her as she runs straight for me. I crouch down on my haunches, and she plows into me, almost knocking me on my ass.
“Hey, gorgeous. Happy birthday,” I whisper against her ear, and her arms wrap tightly around my neck as I lift her up off the ground.
“I missed you,” she tells me, tightening her hold, and I smile before kissing the side of her head.
“I missed you too.” Even though it’s only been two days since I’ve seen her I still miss her.
“I missed you more.” Lyra pulls back enough to look at me and grins.
“Impossible.” I touch my lips to her forehead then look at Aubrey. She’s standing in the doorway to the kitchen with her arms crossed over her chest, watching us with a soft look in her eyes. I love that look. Really, I love everything about her. I look down at Lyra, and ask, “Are you ready to help me make scrambled eggs?”
“With extra cheese?”
“Is there any other way to make scrambled eggs?”
“Nope.” She shakes her head, and I smile as I set her on the counter then move the bowl and carton of eggs closer to her.
When she was two, she wouldn’t eat much of anything. Her doctor was concerned about her weight and told Bre to put her on a supplement. Bre tried, but Lyra hated it and refused to drink it. One morning, I was over to take care of her and I made myself some scrambled eggs. She ate them all off my plate then asked for seconds. I came over for two months every morning to make her breakfast, and she gained the weight she needed and eventually started adding more things to her diet. In the end, her doctor was happy and Bre was relieved. I was just glad I could help.