Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86126 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86126 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
“That was Lou’s.”
“Hey!” Lou griped.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he said, grinning at her. He poured more whiskey into the glass and handed it to her. “I was wonderin’ why he put ice in it.”
“I like ice.”
“Well, there you go.”
“You already drank out of it,” she complained.
Bas watched her for a long moment, then softly said, “That a problem, Louisa?”
I shook my head and turned away from them. I didn’t want to be in the middle of whatever the hell was going on there. With the amount of time we all spent together, if any of them decided to screw the entire group was going to be royally fucked. Best to just pretend I didn’t see shit.
“I know why you bought a big house,” Myla sang quietly. She was just drunk enough to be hungry and irritating, but not quite stumbling around yet as she swayed from side to side along with the music Bas had playing through the living room speakers.
“It’s a nice house,” I replied, my voice firm. Every single time my sister and I drank together, she brought up shit I’d rather not discuss. It was as if she was hoping that after a few drinks I’d spill my guts and start spewing my feelings or something. Well, that, or the liquid courage was making her brave.
Neither of those things were going to bring about the outcome she was hoping for. She’d seen firsthand how completely wrecked I’d been when Noel moved up to Seattle and I’d never heard from her again. We didn’t need to discuss it. Ever.
“I’m goin’ up to my room,” I announced, grabbing the bottle of whiskey. “You guys know where your room is.”
“We should really each have our own rooms,” Lou joked.
“You do—at Myla’s house.”
“I kinda like the bunk bed,” Frankie said, smiling. “It makes me feel like I’m at summer camp.”
“You’re welcome,” Cian said, saluting her with his beer. He’d been the one to find it at a garage sale.
“You sure you don’t want company, handsome?” Frankie called as I walked out of the room.
I flipped her off over my shoulder.
Frankie had been exaggerating about getting lost, but my house was pretty big. My brother Rumi liked to call it a McMansion and I couldn’t really argue with him. There were five bedrooms and four bathrooms. I’d taken the largest bedroom. It had its own bathroom and was built over the garage, so it was a bit removed from the rest of the house. The other bedrooms were set up on the second floor with Jack and Jill bathrooms. Cian and Bas had chosen bedrooms on opposite sides of the hall so they each had their own bathrooms, too, except when the girls stayed and shared with Bas.
Everyone had been surprised when I’d chosen the place. My dad had gotten it for a steal after the previous owners had defaulted on their mortgage and the bank had put it up for auction. It hadn’t been like his usual flip houses because it hadn’t had any major issues. It had barely taken me any time to fix the cosmetic shit after I’d moved in. Myla might tease that she got the best house, but if we were comparing, I’d gotten the killer deal on my house. It was worth quite a bit more than hers—even if it didn’t really fit me.
I hadn’t said anything to anyone, but lately, I’d been considering selling. I’d paid off more than half of the place already and it was a seller’s market, according to my sister-in-law. I really didn’t need so much space and even if I moved to a smaller place, Bas and Cian could still rent from me. It would be the smart thing to do. I had so much equity that I could probably buy a house for myself and a small rental property.
Locking the bedroom door behind me, I set the whiskey and my glass on top of my dresser and started stripping off my clothes as I walked toward the windows along the front wall. The houses down the road were all dark, most of the neighbors were older couples who were in bed pretty early. Grabbing my whiskey from the dresser, I stood there, staring at the property.
The old owners had left behind a swing set that I’d fixed up for any nephews and nieces that came over and it looked like some kind of futuristic alien in the dark. My first spring in the house, I’d planted two long rows of raspberry bushes on the north side of the property that were filling out. I’d probably have a pretty good crop for my sister-in-law Esther to come take during the summer. She traded me for homemade jam, so I got the better end of that deal. The rest of the property was mostly grass. I hadn’t touched any of the trees along the property lines, so everything stayed somewhat secluded.