Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
“Alright, have a great honeymoon. Have wicked hot sex, and remember to take lots of photos. I wanna see it all.”
“You want photos of the wicked hot sex?” she murmurs.
I can’t help but laugh, and the sound seems so foreign on my tongue. “No, you idiot. Just have a great time.”
Glancing down at her, I realize she’s already fast asleep again, and not wanting to disturb her more, I slip out of the room and head downstairs with Bobby, more than ready to get out of here.
Breaking out through the main door, I race down the stairs in desperation. “Hey,” Bobby says, his long legs easily keeping up with my pace as he reaches out and takes my hand, the same way he used to when we were kids. “I love you, and whatever happened back there, you’re gonna get past it.”
I look up at the guy who has been my rock for so long and give him a tight smile, knowing he couldn’t be more wrong. “Love you, too, Bobby. Now, please, take me home.”
Home. Now that’s something I haven’t thought about yet. I’ve been living with Carter since the day I graduated college. I don’t have somewhere to call my own, somewhere to escape the reminders of him.
“Shit,” I cry as the realization truly dawns on me. I look up at my brother with wide eyes, horror taking hold of my chest and squeezing until I can’t breathe. “I don’t have a home.”
“You’ll always have a home,” he tells me, reaching his truck. He stops and pulls the door open for me before helping me up, and the moment I’m settled in my seat, he gives me a comforting smile. “You can stay at my place as long as you want.”
I give him a smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. He knows it and I know it, but there’s nothing we can do about it right now other than accept just how utterly broken I am.
We arrive at Bobby’s bachelor pad twenty minutes later, and I drag myself out of the truck and into the elevator that takes us up to the penthouse. Stepping into his apartment, I bypass every room and beeline straight for the shower, hoping the hot water will help to wash away some of the raw emotion lingering on my heart.
Carter’s shirt drapes over my body, and as I stare at my reflection in the mirror, the tears start all over again. Not being able to handle it, I tear the shirt over my head and lean into the shower, turning on the hot spray of water.
Stepping straight in, I let the hot water wash over me, and I find myself standing there for what could be minutes or hours. I hardly know, but it’s not long before my knees give out, and I fall to the ground with my head in my hands, heavy sobs tearing from the back of my throat.
Bobby knocks at the door and I hastily try to wipe my tears before he comes barging in, but it’s too late. “Come on,” he says as he unfolds the towel that sits on the vanity. He makes a point not to look at me, offering me what little privacy he can while knowing if he didn’t barge in here, I would never have gotten out. “You’ve been in here over an hour.”
Shit.
I usually don’t condone my twin brother barging in on me in the shower, but today, I couldn’t care less. Getting up off the floor, I step out of the shower, and Bobby wraps the towel around me before pulling me into his arms. Despite how awkward it feels, he knows I need this, and he’ll grin and bear it until I’m ready because that’s just the type of man he is.
After a minute, Bobby leads me to my room, and I find a pair of sweatpants and one of Bobby’s oversized hoodies on the bed. “Are you ready to talk about it yet?” he asks as he leans against the door frame.
I sit down on the bed and shake my head, knowing that the moment I open my mouth, the floodgates will break, and I’m not ready to cry again. Hell, the thought of talking about it makes me feel sick, especially when it’s Bobby I’d be talking to. I don’t like him seeing me like this, but I know he’s always got my back. I guess that comes with the territory of being twins.
“Alright,” he says with an encouraging smile. “Why don’t you put on some of that bullshit reality TV crap you like and have a sleep. It will make you feel better.”
God, he knows me well.
“Do you need me to bring in the carton of ice cream and a spoon?” he asks. “I could go and get some trashy magazines and chocolate.”