Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
“I hate it here,” I lied as my grandma strode toward the car, wiggling her eyebrows at me.
I threw open the door and climbed out as she reached us.
“Hey, Gram.”
“Hi, doll,” she replied, cupping my face in her hands so she could get a good look at me. “Beautiful as ever.”
“Really? This morning Dad said there was something wrong with my face.”
“That’s because your father’s an idiot,” she replied, tapping my cheek. “All men are, sweetheart. But we love them anyway.”
“I’m telling Dad you said that,” my mom called from her seat.
“As if I wouldn’t say it straight to his face?” Gram replied as I moved out of her way. “I’ve got a whole-ass list, so I hope you aren’t in a hurry.”
“Nope.” Mom shook her head as I climbed in the back seat. “We’ve got plenty of time today.”
“You sure?” Gram asked. “Maybe Harper’s got big plans later.”
“No plans,” I piped in.
“And why is that?” Gram asked. “Home for the first time in months, and your cousins aren’t breaking down your door?”
“She’s hiding out,” Mom informed her.
“I am not.”
“Why the hell would you do that?” Gram asked over her shoulder.
“I’m not hiding out.”
“You are the definition of hiding out,” my mom countered. “I’m surprised you’re not wearing a fake mustache stuck to your glasses.”
“It would clash with my dress,” I ground out.
“Oh, for God’s sake, Harper,” Gram said with a scoff. “Everyone’s kissed someone they shouldn’t have. Grow a pair.”
My jaw dropped open in surprise. “How the hell did you hear about it?” I sputtered.
“I’m old, but my hearing is just fine.”
“It was less than twelve hours ago!”
“There are these things called telephones. They work great.”
“Who told you?”
“None of your business,” she replied with a laugh. “Who cares, kid? So, you kissed Bas. I don’t blame you. Once that boy took all of the piercings out of his face, he could’ve left the club for a damn modeling career. Not that I’ve got a problem with piercings. But his were too much. Talk about hiding your light under a bushel, or piercings.”
“I was glad when he started getting rid of them,” my mom added quietly. “It seemed like the happier he got, the less there were.”
“Noticed that, too,” Gram murmured. Then she turned her head toward me again. “It’s not like he has an old lady you need to worry about.”
“Mom,” my mother said, her voice low.
“Well, he doesn’t.”
“He’s got Lou,” I reminded my Gram, even though I knew she was well aware of all the club dynamics.
“Oh, please,” she said, shaking her head. “If he wanted to, he would. If they haven’t figured out what they are by now, they never will.”
“You’re telling her to basically horn in on someone else’s…something. Hell, I don’t know what they are.”
“Exactly.” Gram pulled the shade down and used the mirror to check her lipstick.
“Why the hell would she want to deal with a bunch of drama?” Mom asked.
“Who says it’ll be drama?”
“Well, considering that everyone knows already, I’d say the drama already found me,” I cut in. “This has been an illuminating conversation, but can we talk about something else?”
“Sure,” Gram said as we pulled onto the highway. “I hear you got fired.”
I dropped my head back against the seat in defeat.
* * *
Hours later, I was in my sweatpants, eating freshly procured rainbow sherbet, going through my parents’ bookshelves looking for something to read. Grocery shopping had been an entire ordeal where we walked down every aisle, sometimes more than once, while Gram tried to convince me to go down with her and Gramps to Sacramento. She was convinced that if I just checked out the boys in the Aces chapter down there, I’d find someone to cure me of my doldrums.
She’d actually said doldrums.
Mom was on a mission and left us halfway through the trip and was waiting in the car by the time we were done.
I was freaking exhausted, and I didn’t want to talk to anyone for the rest of the day.
Dad was somewhere outside, Mom had disappeared into her room, and I could’ve sworn that I could hear my phone ticking like a bomb where I’d stuffed it in the bottom of my suitcase.
On the bright side, we hadn’t run into anyone we knew at the store, and before we’d split up, I’d thrown a bunch of snacks in Mom’s cart while she pretended that she didn’t notice.
Finding an old favorite of my dad’s on the shelf, I carried the book over to the couch and settled in. One of the best things about growing up with parents who were readers was that when they saw you in the middle of a book, they generally left you alone. I couldn’t count the nights over the years when I’d looked up from whatever story had captured my attention and realized that the three of us had been sitting for hours in complete silence, all of us absorbed in our own novels.