Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
We walk to the side of the house where eight big logs lie in an octagon shape around a firepit. We are here almost every single weekend just to sit and shoot the shit, or even during the week, we go out and eat and then just come here and chill. Sometimes we even bring the food with us.
The sun is slowly going down when Waylon comes back with some wood and starts the fire while I sit on a log. “Here,” Brock offers, handing me a beer he took out from the cooler that he just carried over from the back of Waylon’s pickup.
“Thanks.” Holding my beer, I clink it with his. The heat from the fire comes to me as I look over and see Jennifer, Autumn, and Everleigh sitting on a log across from me, laughing at something one of them said. The three of them have been best friends since kindergarten. I met Jennifer through Waylon, who brought her to the barn one day. The next day, I called her up, and we’d been together for the past year. I watch Brock walk over to the girls with the cooler in his hand, and the three of them open up their own beers as Everleigh tells them a story.
“I’m wiped,” Brock states when he comes back and sits next to me, stretching out his legs in front of him. He just graduated with a Bachelor of Architecture and is starting his three-year internship with the Cartwright Company. Plus, he works on the weekend and sometimes at night at his family mechanic shop. I take a pull of my beer as Waylon comes over to sit next to me, holding a water bottle. “No beer?” Brock asks him, and he shakes his head.
“Nah,” he says, “I’m driving.” He takes a big gulp of his water. “Plus, I have to help my father tomorrow at the house.” He shakes his head. “Like he couldn’t get someone else to help him or my brother. He’s been on my ass these past couple of weeks.” We both chuckle at him as he goes on to talk about how his father has been on his case. Something that I can understand since he dropped out of college to help work at the construction company, but then bailed the first week of working. He opted to work in the office except he practically never shows up, and when you talk to him, he’s usually on the golf course. He finishes the bottle of water, then crushes it before going to his truck to get another one.
The crackling from the fire fills the night air as we all talk about little things here and there, the girls on their side of the fire laughing away and giggling. I catch Jennifer watching me a couple of times and I wink at her each time, giving her a little grin. I want to leave and go back to our place and just be together when Waylon gets up and goes to his truck. I watch him walking there, wondering what he’s doing. He opens the driver’s side door and turns the pickup on, blasting the radio loudly. The sound of a country song now replaces the sound of the fire branches snapping. He holds one hand up in the air as he sways his hips. “Autumn, get your ass over here and dance with me.” He grabs another bottle of water from the truck. I shake my head and laugh as Jennifer gets up and comes over to me, sitting on the ground between my legs. I put my beer bottle down next to the three other empty bottles I’ve drunk since we got here, before wrapping my arms around her chest. “Having fun, baby?” I ask her when she looks up at me, smiling.
“More fun than them.” She motions with her chin toward the truck where Waylon and Autumn are having what looks like a heated argument. He’s trying to get her to dance, but she’s whipping off his arm and fighting his advances. “I don’t know what she’s doing with him. She deserves so much better than him.” Waylon pffts in Autumn’s face before she shakes her head. He grabs her wrist when she’s about to walk away from him, yanking her to him, jerking her shoulder, and then hugging her. “I mean, it’s not a night out unless they are fighting,” Jennifer says when she stands up and holds out her hand for me. “Dance with me?”
“Anytime.” I grab her hand, getting up. “Anywhere.” I wrap an arm around her waist as I sway her to the song playing on the radio. I bury my face in her neck, smelling the berry scent from her shampoo. “Forever.” I rub my nose against hers. “Have I told you lately that I love you?” I ask her softly as she grips the back of my neck in both hands.