Total pages in book: 203
Estimated words: 199654 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 998(@200wpm)___ 799(@250wpm)___ 666(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199654 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 998(@200wpm)___ 799(@250wpm)___ 666(@300wpm)
Though his presence feels extreme, I don’t turn around and do my best to not let on I feel anything but indifference.
But I’m feeling many more things besides indifference right now, and I refuse to let any of them penetrate.
“Since when do you knock, Jase? And especially now that you’re family almost officially, you certainly don’t have to knock when you can smell that the rest of us are here having food. You’re in time for breakfast.”
Now I feel the warmth of his breath on my ear and neck, so I walk to the kitchen, not looking back, returning with a plate and a set of cutlery, intentionally not looking at him, though knowing his gaze is on me.
“You didn’t bring a plate for Jase?” Mom asks, and her expression says, I raised you better than this.
“It’s okay, Carrie. I ate. In fact, you don’t need that plate, Bay. I brought your breakfast. I was cooking it when you slipped out without saying anything…” He lets that hang, reprimand in his voice.
I look at him and sure enough, he’s holding a plate covered with foil.
I roll my eyes. “No thank you, I have a craving for Mom’s pancakes.”
“Bailey,” Mom hisses with disapproval.
I shoot her a look that stops her cold. Because I’m a grown woman and this shit is new but it’s already old. She seems to get it, saying nothing, eyes lighting with recognition, but this doesn’t stop her mouth from tightening.
Grey speaks up. “So… stating the obvious, you slept at Jase’s but you two haven’t made it official.”
“If it’s obvious, why bring it up?” I mutter.
Grey’s eyebrows are up high and he’s looking at Jase. It’s like I’m missing something here.
“Still can’t touch her without getting zapped,” Jase replies. “Though she can touch me…”
And the way his voice drops when he says that, grr. More sexual warfare.
“Did or did it not pour rain last night, Jason?” I ask.
“Yeah, it was rainin’ cats ‘n dogs. Why?”
The others at the table exchange glances as I give my mom a look.
Grey still has his eyebrows up, eyes on Jase and I don’t understand what sort of communication is going on right now, but there’s something between them.
Dad gets up. “I’m runnin’ to town for an errand.”
“An errand where?” Mom asks.
“Just… back later,” Dad mutters and he’s walking past us.
“What’s going on?” Mom asks, looking confused.
Stacy looks uncomfortable.
Jase gets closer. “Can’t touch you until tomorrow that is.”
And the threat along with the heat against my neck has me moving away from him.
“You know what? I think I’ll grab something later,” I say, ignoring my hunger. “I’ll just change so we can do what we were gonna do, yeah, Stacy?”
“Um… sure…”
Jase is wearing a panty-removing smile, dimples popping, while my brother is putting his fork down, looking like he lost his appetite.
I grab a pancake from the platter, dunk it in the puddle of syrup on my father’s abandoned plate and fold it in half, eating it on the way upstairs.
I hear Grey say, “Outside.”
And he’s saying it in a way that sounds like he’s pissed off.
I want out of here as fast as possible, so this desire wins over my desire to know what that’s about. I rush to my bathroom and quickly wash the dirt off my feet before I go into my closet and shed everything I’m wearing other than my bra because I put it on fresh after my bath last night. I throw some clean clothes on, put my hair up into a ponytail, roll on deodorant, spritzing a little perfume, and get into a pair of slides that won’t irritate my heel blisters.
After a quick two-minute makeup application, I check my phone battery percentage and grab my power pack, plugging it in and slipping both into my purse before I jog downstairs, grab one more cold pancake before lifting the syrup and butter to take them to the kitchen where Mom and Stacy are already working on cleaning up.
“Mom, I need out of here in a hurry. You mind if I grab Stacy and run?”
“Okay,” Mom says but I know she doesn’t agree. “I have to tell you, I’m worrying about you.”
“Don’t.”
She has enough to worry about.
She keeps going. “I think you’re avoiding your feelings and that’s not healthy. It sounds like you went through a lot on that trip and I don’t want you to think I’m not on your side. I’m on your side, always, I just know Jase is what you’ve wanted for a long time and right now you’re pushing your feelings away because it seems easier, but sooner or later you need to acknowledge these emotions you’re having and when you do, I’m here. Day or night.”
This is not what I need right now, but I know Mom is worried.
“Yes, I’m feeling a lot of things right now and doing my best to avoid these feelings, so I don’t have a full-scale nervous breakdown. I have a mission and I’m choosing to focus on that instead. I’m an adult and I don’t need or appreciate being treated like a naughty child because you all want me to play the Jase game I don’t want to play.”