Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
I made decent money.
I didn’t need to squirrel away as much of it as I did.
It was overkill.
It was just… if I needed a quick out, I wanted to be prepared.
I never wanted to be caught off guard again.
I sniffled hard, then re-wet the washcloth, pressing it to my skin.
No matter what, I would figure it out. I’d gotten this far, right?
King’s voice, familiar and once so comforting, called down the hall, asking me to come out to talk.
“Right,” I said to my reflection. I might as well not have bothered with the compress. I was never someone who could cry and then look like it never happened. I always stayed red—my eyes, the tip of my nose—for hours afterward. And most times, I woke up puffy-eyed the next morning too.
Oh well.
It is what it is.
Taking a deep breath, holding, then releasing, I pulled open the door, and made my way back into the living room where the men were waiting for me.
Kingston’s head tipped toward his shoulder, his brows scrunching, eyes looking sad. Because, of course, he could tell I’d been crying.
Thankfully, though, he didn’t mention it.
“I will just need a couple of hours to, ah, pack my stuff,” I said, hearing the crack in my voice, but ignoring it.
“No, wait,” Kingston said, holding up a hand. “Atlas and I have been talking,” he said. “And we think we might have a possible arrangement that will work for everyone.”
“O…kay,” I said, tone as dubious as I felt.
Kingston looked at Atlas, but he didn’t say anything, leaving his older brother to take the lead.
“Here’s the thing. Atlas is never here. That’s why we had you move in. And he’s only here right now because he needs a place to recover,” he started.
“Yeah,” I said, wincing at his body and having to force back visions of his leg bone sticking out of his leg. What can I say? I didn’t do gore well. Or blood. I once accidentally trimmed Samson’s nails and clipped the quick. It didn’t even bleed that much, but I’d been nauseated the entire day about it.
“And he clearly needs some help here and there. But it’s not easy at our house with the kids. So, we were wondering if maybe it would work for you if you both temporarily cohabitated,” Kingston said.
“Cohabitate?” I asked.
“There are enough bedrooms. And you could make sure this moron doesn’t end up on the floor and unable to get back up,” he said, jerking his chin toward his brother.
Could I do that?
Live with a man?
A man I didn’t even know?
I mean, he was a wreck.
It wasn’t like he was a threat to me or anything. He looked like he was in pain just sitting still.
“Not gonna try anything, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Atlas said. “Pretty sure you could outrun me anyway,” he added, waving down at his leg.
“We’ll waive rent while he’s here, of course,” Kingston went on.
“That’s… that’s too much,” I said, even as I mentally wondered how far I could stretch that money. My car desperately needed to go into the shop. New tires. New brakes. I’d been putting it off because it was just so damn expensive.
“Or maybe we can work out an arrangement where you drive Atlas to the occasional doctor’s appointment in exchange for staying on while he’s here recuperating.”
“I… I could do that,” I said, nodding.
“No one is expecting you to take care of him,” Kingston went on. “If he needs help showering or anything like that, one of us will come.”
“I can shower myself,” Atlas insisted, unmistakably grumpy at being so down for the count.
“You can’t even sit up by yourself,” Kingston shot back, rolling his eyes.
“But if you could, you know, bring in the takeout he orders, maybe get him drinks now and again, that kind of shit,” Kingston said.
“I could do that,” I said, nodding.
“Maybe if he needs anything and you’re already heading to the store…”
“Sure,” I agreed, thinking that wouldn’t be too bad.
I wasn’t a complete stranger to caretaking. When I’d been a kid, my paternal grandparents, then maternal grandparents had moved in with us as they declined. Even as a little kid, I was helping feed them or bringing them their meds.
I’d never minded it, either.
I always liked feeling helpful.
“Keep track of your mileage,” Kingston suggested. “And Atlas will pay you back for it. And wear and tear on the car.”
“That’s really not—“ I started to object.
“AJ,” Kingston said, shaking his head. “I know you’re too nice to say it, but this is a major fuck-up on my part that has led to an inconvenience for you. Let us make it up to you.”
I mean, he was right.
This was his fault.
And I knew I was a little too apt to let people take advantage of me. I was working on it. This was an opportunity to do that, right?