Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
He barks a laugh. “Good response. I’m Ed. Welcome to the neighborhood.”
“I’m Price. It’s nice to be here.”
“Enjoy it. I’m gonna be out before too long.”
“Where are you going?”
He stops and shrugs while his dog sniffs around the mailbox. “No clue. My wife died last year. She took care of our finances. I don’t know how she made ends meet, but I can’t.” He continues down the sidewalk.
“I’ll be done walking in your dog’s piss in fifteen minutes. Bring me your bills and banking information.”
He chuckles. “Why?”
“I’ll show you how your wife did it. I might even help you do it better.”
“I’m good. But thanks.” He continues onward.
An hour later …
Ed knocks on my door, holding a cardboard box. “Janice had a better filing system.”
I grin, taking the box from him. “I do not doubt that.”
Later that evening, I meet Scottie at the salt room.
“You’re late, Milloy,” she whispers from her zero gravity chair when I sit beside her.
“Community service took longer than expected,” I say, leaning back.
When I roll my head toward her, she grins without opening her eyes. The salt is good for me; Scottie is better.
Forty-five minutes later, we exit the building together.
“Tell me about your community service.” She retrieves her keys from her bag.
“Can’t. It’s confidential.”
“Pfft.” She heads toward her red truck. “Liar.”
“When’s Koen coming home?”
“Sunday.” She opens the door and turns. “Why? Do you need me to spot you at the gym?”
“Just making conversation.”
She nods slowly, eyeing me with that look of equal parts concern and distrust.
“I think we should go to a comedy club tomorrow night. I found one that starts at 8:30, so we could make it after the store closes.”
She frowns.
“If you need permission, ask Koen. Tell him I promise to stop at second base.”
“You’ve never stopped at second base.” She blows her bangs away from her face. “And I love him, so there’s that little hiccup in your plan.”
Of course, she does. It’s been eight weeks. She loved me in less than two. Scottie’s heart doesn’t know how to do anything but love.
It’s why I’m here.
“I love him, too. He’s not failed me once. Last week, I tried lifting more than I should have, but he swooped in and saved me. It made my skin tingle when his biceps bulged, and he made it look so easy.” I pull my T-shirt away from my chest to fan myself.
Fighting her grin, she shakes her head and glances over my shoulder. “Pick me up at 8:10.”
I feel joy down to my fucking soul. “Goodnight, Scottie Rucker.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I ALWAYS KNEW HE WOULD NEVER STOP BREAKING MY HEART.
Scottie
“Tell me something good,” Koen answers his phone a little before ten with a heavy sigh punctuating his plea.
“Oof! That’s a lot of pressure. Do you believe in God?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I’ve heard he’s good.”
He sighs. I don’t read into it. Vague sighs are not my specialty.
“Sorry I’m calling so late.”
“I figured you were at the salt room. Do you ever think, ‘What if this salt room thing is a big hoax? A scam’?”
I grin, rubbing Scrot’s belly as he lies spread eagle on the bed. When Koen’s out of town, he leaves Scrot with me instead of asking his neighbor’s sixteen-year-old son to watch him. “I think, what if this salt room is not a big hoax? What if it’s not a scam? What if the benefits are real?”
Again, he sighs. It’s so heavy that I feel the weight of it on my chest.
“Bad day?”
“Everything that could go wrong today did go wrong.”
“You didn’t die. Did you take a drink?”
“What? Fuck, no. Please don’t do that.”
I pause, not expecting him to sound upset with my reply.
“I hate it when people try to fix shit that can’t be fixed and assume the worst. I can’t undo my day. It happened. I’ll get over it. But right now, I’m still feeling the effects. And I can have a bad day without falling off the goddamn wagon. But thanks for your trust.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I just … I had a bad day. Hearing your voice makes it a little better, but so will a good night’s sleep. When I vent, I don’t expect you to make it better. Haven’t you felt the need to vent without expecting someone to make it better? And isn’t it nice when people think the best of you?”
“Koen, I’m sorry. Truly.”
I wait.
And wait.
“I’m going to bed. I don’t feel like talking. I feel like an asshole tonight, and I don’t like exposing you to my lack of charm. It’s not your job to cheer me up.”
“You’re not an asshole, but sleep is a good idea. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye—”
“Koen?”
“Yeah?”
“Your Scrotum’s on my bed. And he’s the cutest Scrotum I’ve ever seen. I like to nuzzle my nose into your little Scrotum, don’t you?”