Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“Brooks!” he calls after me. “C’mon, man. Talk to me!”
But I’m already through the automatic doors, the air feeling like a slap in the face now. I walk as fast as possible toward my building. Pretty damn fast, considering how long my stride is.
Still. There’s the sound of a familiar, heavy tread behind me, quickly playing catch up.
I know without looking it’s Porg.
“Hey,” he breathes when he’s finally at my side. “What’s your deal?”
“I told you, I’ll be fine.”
“That’s a lie if I ever—Christ, can you slow down?” He grabs my shoulder, making my feet catch on the nubby concrete of the newly poured sidewalk. “I’m not the smartest guy in the room, but I know when my friend is lying through his fucking teeth. Something’s up, and I can tell you need to talk about it.”
I look up at the sky. A breeze makes the bag in my hand rustle.
My heart thunders inside my chest.
“Porg, the—it’s—the Plan B, it’s for Greer,” I stammer, looking down to meet his gaze. “She and I—we’re together. It started over the weekend when I took her to Blue Mountain Farm. I swear on my sister’s life I had no intention of laying a finger on her. But it happened, and I’m happy it happened, and I am going to work my ass off to make sure she’s happy too.”
George stares at me, mouth going slack.
I have no idea if I said the right things. I don’t want to give away too much. This is Greer’s news to share too. But I know I’m doing the right thing.
I hope.
Running my fingers across my mouth, I pray I don’t actually lose my dinner all over the sidewalk.
“Is this a joke?”
I shake my head. “I should’ve told you I invited her on a trip. I should’ve asked—”
“Asked what? If you could fuck my sister?” He puts his hands on his hips and laughs. A hard, humorless sound. “You have some balls.”
I hold up the bag. “I know. That’s the problem.”
Bad joke. Porg’s eyes narrow. “I don’t even know where to begin. It’s sketchy as hell you invited her in the first place. Brooks, you’re eleven years older than she is. That’s a lifetime when you’re her age.”
“I know what it looks like, but I was just trying to help her out. Give her a break from work. I told her I booked the room for her and a friend, but then she insisted that I come because . . . you know. It was the anniversary, and she knew I needed a break too.”
His expression softens the tiniest bit. “I get that. But I don’t get why you have to go after my sister when you could have literally anyone else. You do have everyone else. Greer . . . she’s not like that. She’s not like you.”
I wince, my fingers moving to the spot just beneath my collarbone. “Ouch.”
“She’s going to get hurt. I mean, Jesus, y’all have been hooking up for all of a weekend, and you’re already running out to buy Plan fucking B. Did you not think to use protection? With my sister?” He steps closer. “You know better. She doesn’t.”
I fight the urge to jab a finger into his chest, anger rising in my own. “Of course I used protection! We’re careful. I’m being careful with her, Porg. I care about her in a way I haven’t cared about anyone in . . . well. A really long time. We just had an accident. Broken condom. Total freak thing. I immediately called Ria and asked her what we should do.”
George also knew Ria at Duke. Which means he knows she’s the best of the best. Out of all our friends, she was the smartest. By far.
“All right,” he says grudgingly. “You did good on that part. But the part about you not telling me any of this? Jesus Christ, Brooks, I sat two feet away from you all day today. You could’ve called me anytime over the weekend. You know, before y’all . . . did whatever.”
“And said what?”
“I don’t know! That you’re into my sister and you want to date her but you’re trying to do it right so you’re reaching out to me, your best fucking friend, first?”
I run my tongue along my top teeth. “You’re not wrong. I should’ve reached out. But it all started . . . I was trying to protect Greer. She was hanging out with these guys . . .”
“Guys her own age?” Porg sneezes, then crosses his arms. “Ones who don’t take different girls home every night?”
“I told you, it’s not like that with Greer. I care about her. Deeply.”
“Oh? When was the last time you dated someone? Had a real relationship? Like, what ever happened with that girl you were taking out?”
I frown. “Nothing. I took her on a date, but I couldn’t stop thinking—”