Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 130307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
“In the morning,” he agreed.
His nostrils flared a bit when his eyes traveled down, and I knew without looking that my robe was gaping, that the slim spaghetti strap top I wore beneath it did nothing to hide my large breasts.
But I didn’t cover myself, didn’t back away.
I swallowed, staying perfectly still.
And when Will finally inhaled a stiff breath and tore himself away, I swore I heard him mutter a curse under his breath on his way down the hall.
Morning Routine
Chloe
In the first full week of living with Will and Ava, I learned three things.
One — my mission to make the two of them smile or, God forbid, laugh would prove more difficult than I thought.
It was like living with Sadness from Inside Out, except neither of them was capable of showing even that kind of emotion. They just sort of floated about with scowls on their faces, even when they declared they were “happy” and “having a good day.”
When Will was home for dinner, I’d crack jokes, make them both play silly games with me, and use my napkin to fashion the most ridiculous hats on my head.
The only reaction I got was the two of them sharing a look like I was crazy.
When it was just me and Ava, whether we were on our way to or from school or hanging around the house or watching a hockey game, I was just as unsuccessful. It didn’t matter if we were playing or painting or swimming in the heated pool — getting Ava to do anything more than smirk was impossible.
Not even dipping my head underwater and brushing my hair forward, only to emerge and flip it over so I looked like George Washington, did the trick. She’d simply blinked at me, and then floated on her back like the sky was much more interesting.
Still, I wasn’t giving up — not on either of them.
One day, I would make them laugh.
The second thing I learned was that my morning routine was much, much different from Will’s.
My mornings were slow, lazy, and then absolutely chaotic and rushed in the last ten minutes before I had to go out the door.
I usually laid in bed reading for a half hour before I’d drag myself to the bathroom, brushing my teeth and, on the good days, washing my face. If it was a morning Will wasn’t around, I’d go in to help Ava get ready for school, and Arushi — er, Chef Patel — was usually yelling at us for taking too long to get ready when we were eating our breakfast on the way out the door instead of at the table like she wanted.
When I didn’t have to help Ava, I’d listen to a podcast and drink tea until Chef was knocking on my sliding glass door with the butt of her spatula, a warning glare on her beautiful face.
Either way, I was usually rushing out the door with Ava in tow.
Will, on the other hand, woke up three hours before he had to be anywhere — and he had a strict routine that he followed.
Because the time he woke up depended largely on how late he got to bed the night before, I’d witnessed all the various stages of his routine. After a week, I could easily surmise the order.
First, he’d drink a full glass of water. Sometimes I watched this from the safety of the pool house, and other times, I’d have a front row show at the kitchen island. I’d have to pretend I was helping Ava pack up her backpack and not watching the way his throat constricted, or how his pajama pants hung from his hips in a way that made me feel like I needed to do a set of Hail Marys.
Next, he’d change into athletic shorts and usually nothing else, moving out onto the turf that lined the far edge of the pool. He’d sit and meditate for twenty minutes or so, and then transition into a yoga flow — one I found incredibly distracting when I was getting my supplies ready for the day in the pool house.
For a few days, I didn’t know where he went after that portion of his routine. It wasn’t until halfway through the week when I needed him to sign a permission slip for Ava to go on a field trip that I found him in the gym connected to the garage…
Jump roping.
It was a sight I would be hard pressed to ever forget. 2000s hip-hop music blasted through the space filled with weightlifting equipment, and when I walked in, I found him in the middle of the room, shirtless, his tan body glistening with sweat, his gaze hard and focused as he jumped rope faster than I’d ever seen anyone do before.
But he wasn’t just jumping rope like a warm up.