Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 151384 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 606(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151384 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 606(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
“Got it,” Tobias said. Weak immune system? “So should she be going to things like concerts with you? To places like hotels? Supermarkets?”
Dirty bars that looked like they hadn’t been cleaned in years and whose inhabitants didn’t look much better?
“Likely not,” Jenner replied with a small smile as he glanced through the door to where Immy slept. “But try telling her that.”
Oh, he would tell her. But it wouldn’t be phrased as a request or question. She’d simply do as she was told.
“I once tried to put my foot down. I told her that she wasn’t needed at my concerts anymore. She got so mad at me. Said if she couldn’t do the things she enjoyed, then what was the point of living anymore. That scared me. Because I can’t imagine a life without Immy in it. If I could control every aspect of her life, I would. But we lived with someone like that for years. So we balance keeping her safe with letting her live. I know we don’t always get it right. We’ve always protected Immy. Taken care of her. She’s always seen the bright side of life, even at the cult. I don’t know how she did it. You don’t know how it feels to have one person have complete control over you.”
Hmm. That was debatable.
Jenner smiled. “Things could be terrible and Immy would smile or make a joke or give us a compliment and it was like the world became lighter. Like it lit up. Just being around her made everything feel better.”
Fuck. Tobias didn’t want to feel sorry for him or understand him.
Or fucking like him.
But it seemed like it was too late. He already felt all of those things.
26
“Immy! What are you doing up?”
Unicorn poop.
She’d thought everyone was out of the house. Turning, she saw Jenner standing by the kitchen island.
“I woke up and I was thirsty.”
“Then why didn’t you call for me?” he asked, walking over and taking the soda out of her hand.
He put it back into the fridge and instead, drew out a carton of orange juice.
Nooo.
She didn’t want orange juice. She wanted soda.
“I didn’t think you were here. Aren’t you supposed to be at the studio?”
“I postponed that until tomorrow.”
“You did? Was that okay with everyone else?” she asked.
He just shrugged as he put the orange juice on the island. Then he picked her up by the hips and placed her on the counter. “Looking after you comes first.”
She sighed. “No, it doesn’t.”
“Yes, it does,” he said firmly. He half-filled her glass with juice and then held it up to her lips. “Open.”
“I wanted soda.”
“Soda isn’t good for you. Juice is. Open.”
“You say that to me a lot.”
“I say what a lot?” he asked.
“Open,” she said in a deep voice.
“Is that supposed to sound like me?” he asked, his lips twitching.
“It sounds exactly like you!”
“Not even close. You sound like a constipated chipmunk.”
She gasped. Loudly. “Well, maybe that’s what you sound like.”
It wasn’t. He sounded like caramel apples. Sweet on the outside and a bit tart and sharp underneath. Complex and delicious.
And now she wanted a caramel apple.
Instead, she took the glass from him and sipped on orange juice that she didn’t even like.
“I don’t like orange juice.”
“I know,” he said. “But you need the vitamin C so keep drinking. I’ll make you some breakfast.”
“I’m not hungry.”
He shot her a look. “You’ve barely eaten the last few days. You look like you’re feeling better so you’re going to eat. Or I’ll call Eric.”
“Hey! That’s not nice.”
“I bet he knows a way to get some food into you. I think they can put stuff through a tube into your stomach. They probably go through the butt.”
“They do not!”
Well, she didn’t think they did.
However, it was probably best that she didn’t find out.
“Fine. I’ll eat a tiny bit.” She watched him move around the kitchen and fought the urge to take over. Truthfully, she was feeling weak enough that she wasn’t sure it was a good idea for her to attempt to use the stove.
He scrambled the eggs and only had to fish out some egg shell twice. Which was pretty good for him. Then he buttered some toast and added it to the side of the plate.
Immy glanced down at the plate of food as he lifted her onto a stool. “Thanks, yummy.”
“Do you need me to feed you?” Jenner asked.
Yes.
No.
She had to stop relying on them all so much so she picked up the piece of toast. “No thanks. Um, you should go to your rehearsal. You’ve got another small tour coming up. How far away is that?”
“It’s this weekend.”
“What? Oh, unicorn poop. What day is it today?”
“Wednesday.”
“You need to get to the studio.”
“I’m right where I need to be,” he countered.
“Jenner! You need to go.”
“No.” He gave her a stern look. “And stop trying to get rid of me.”