Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 117415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
All it needed was a little nudge.
“And I can adjust my dream,” she says, still hugging me. “You don’t have to fill this house with grandbabies to make me happy. And you don’t have to marry a girl who sings and plays guitar. I’ll settle for the far superior prize of a handsome, smart, and loving young man like Austin, who takes such good care of you.”
I fight a smile over her shoulder.
Oh, just wait until I tell her.
Chapter 18.
Austin
I wake up in a bed that isn’t mine.
And for the first time, it feels like a bed I belong in.
The unfamiliar peace is disarming at first. There are no alarms going off. No one tapping on the door telling me where I need to be and by when. No noise of our crew loading into a new venue outside. No schedule. I’m expecting that all-too-familiar jolt like I’m already late for something.
Until I realize I’m not.
There’s nowhere I need to be but here.
Then I feel TJ, tucked into my side, naked body against mine, asleep. Strips of morning sunlight peeking through the blinds are drawn over our bodies threading in and out of the sheets. Waking up next to TJ pushes the rest of the world away, keeping me right here. I smile, turn to scoop him into my arms, and shut my eyes.
Every morning in Spruce, Texas is a morning to sleep in.
I just may never leave this bed.
Well, until my stomach growls and forces me to, at least.
Then TJ stirs, twists in my arms, and his sleepy eyes open onto mine. It’s our first morning waking up like this with no fear of being caught off-guard by anything. Except for morning breath. I kiss him. He kisses me back. “G’morning, stud,” he murmurs.
He told his mom about us last night.
Which means his dad knows, too.
TJ figured they already knew for quite some time. They were just waiting for him to say it. And now that he has, we don’t have to sneak around here at his house.
Can’t imagine what that feels like for him, to have that weight off his back after all these years.
“But, like, maybe we don’t have to kiss in front of them,” TJ says when we’re in his bathroom brushing our teeth. “Don’t know if I’m ready for that just yet.”
I smirk at him. “What kind of gentleman do you think I am?” I fling my arms around him, jabbing my toothbrush toward his face. “You think I’m gonna rip their son’s clothes off at the breakfast table and mack all over him?”
He twists his eyes onto me. “Yes.”
I frown. “I can behave.” Then I resume brushing my teeth, my arm still hooked around his neck.
Honestly, nothing feels all that different from yesterday. I join his dad Tim chatting at the counter with mugs of coffee about how the weather affects satellite communications—honestly, I’m a bit lost—while TJ joins his mom Cissy at the stove to oversee frying up some eggs. Everything is so relaxed, as if I’ve already been here for weeks and this is just another morning of us all just hanging out.
And when we’re seated and eating breakfast, TJ next to me, I can’t help but notice how much easier his laughter comes—even at his dad’s cheesy jokes. Cissy’s eyes light up every single time I say something. It isn’t long before I’m cracking up at nothing at all.
I already feel like a part of the family.
The rest of the morning, TJ and I lounge in the living room in front of the TV, my arm slung over the back of the couch. Tim is still talking about an episode of Ancient Aliens he caught only half of last night before drifting off—and has way too many opinions about—and is trying to look it up so we can watch it. Cissy is in an armchair nearby scrolling on her phone, perking up now and then to share a funny thing someone posted online. I don’t even notice when TJ shifts closer, and my arm is around him, cuddling him to my side. No one cares. No alarms sound out. His dad keeps geeking out over constellation-aligned pyramids in Egypt, and Cissy keeps gagging over cat videos on Instagram.
The life in this room. The brightness in everyone’s faces. How each moment feels so warm and tasty, I could just melt right into it like cream into coffee.
Is this what life could be like?
We’re floating on an inflatable pool lounger in the guest wing swimming pool. The sky is just cloudy enough that it doesn’t feel like we’re being spit-roasted in the afternoon sun. It’s a downright paradise—until TJ gets a funny idea, goes to tickle me, the whole inflatable capsizes, and we crash into the water in a fit of laughter and shouts. I get him back for that, don’t worry, cornering him in the pool and tickling the guy without mercy until he’s nothing but tears and choked screaming.