Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 89536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
“Put the remote down and pay attention, dipshit.”
Buzz grumbles, but it’s clear Tripp has the authority amongst the three as oldest, so he zips his lips and sits up straighter.
“It’s complicated.” Buzz uses air quotes as he brings the conversation back to the topic at hand. “Explain what that means.”
“The relationship between Mateo and me is…”
“Do not say complicated one more time,” he huffs, irritated.
“Hey—let her talk,” I warn, becoming as aggravated as he is but protective, too. If I have to sit here and listen to him treat his sister like this, I’m going to wind up doing something I’ll regret, like planting him a facer.
“That’s not our news,” she eventually says, sounding uncertain.
“Are you getting married?” Buzz guesses with a laugh.
True laughs, too. “Married? No.”
“You’re already married?” Wow is he bad at this. “Did you go to Vegas when I wasn’t paying attention?”
“Oh my god, Buzz, no. Would you stop?”
“If you’re here to ask permission to date this guy, the answer is no. You told me once not to give him your info, so I have no fucking idea why we’re all sitting around like we’re at summer camp about to light a bonfire and sing ‘Kumbaya’.”
The perfect opening if I’ve ever heard one.
“See, the thing is…” True begins weakly. “The thing…”
She wrings her hands together again, and I notice Tripp noticing, too. His brows furrow at the same time his mouth frowns.
Being in front of the firing squad, aka your siblings, is a different kind of nerve-racking and painful—especially if you’ve lived your entire life constantly bidding for their approval.
Which she has.
I put a hand on her back and rub in slow circles below her shoulder blades.
Buzz’s hawklike gaze watches.
“So at your wedding, Mateo and I started talking…”
“You’ve been dating since my wedding! That was months ago!”
Soon we get to find out if it’s a girl or a boy, and we still haven’t decided if we want to know. Still aren’t sure if she’s coming with me to Arizona, still aren’t sure, aren’t sure…aren’t sure about anything.
“Stop interrupting,” True finally scolds. “Just stop. It’s making me nervous—if you want to hear what I have to say, stop.”
My hand continues rubbing her back.
“Do you want me to say something?” I ask quietly, ready and willing to take over the conversation if she wants me to, but also willing to stay silent and let her do the talking.
Whatever True wants and needs from me.
Her head gives the barest perceptible shake, and she brushes the hair out of her face. “Alright. I’m just going to say this. Tripp, you’ve probably already pieced the puzzle together by now, having half the information.”
Our eyes meet and he nods.
“Buzz. Trace.” She uses his real name—his birth name—letting him know this is about to get serious. “Mateo and I slept together the night of your wedding, and I got pregnant.”
Holy shit, way to rip off the Band-Aid, True.
That’s my girl, balls to the wall.
The only sounds that can be heard are the dog gnawing at his rubber ball in the corner of the room, the sloppy, wet noises and his little dog teeth squeaking against the rubber, making me cringe.
Tripp sees me looking at the pooch and smiles. “That’s why I call him Chewy.”
Ha ha.
“Why aren’t you saying anything?” True eventually asks Buzz, who hasn’t moved a muscle.
“How could you not tell me you slept with José Espinoza?”
Hi, I’m sitting right here.
Buzz stands.
I lift my chin high.
“His name is Mateo, and I don’t have to tell you every man I have sex with. Get over yourself.”
“What?”
“I said, his name is—”
“I know what his goddamn name is!” her brother bellows. “When were you going to tell me you slept with him at my wedding?!”
“It wasn’t at the wedding, and it’s none of your freaking business who I have sex with!”
“Stop being so literal, and stop saying you have sex with people, I swear to god…” He takes a deep breath and starts over, calming himself down with the same breathing techniques we’re taught at work. “True.” This time he’s more composed. “When were you going to tell me you slept with Espinoza?”
He barely looks at me.
“Honestly? Never.” Her chin is tilted up defiantly—it’s a look I’ve seen my sisters give me dozens and dozens of times. “I just said, it’s none of your freaking business who I have sex with.”
I almost expect him to cover his ears with his hands at the mention of the word ‘sex’ and follow it with La la la, I can’t hear you!
“They were going to tell you in nine months,” Tripp interjects under his breath, clear as a bell and loud enough that we all hear him.
Buzz’s head whips around. “What did you just say?” He’s yelling again.
“Did you miss the part where she said she’s pregnant?” Tripp rolls his eyes. “Here you are focusing on the fact that they had sex.”