Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 86199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
“Really?”
He pops a shoulder as if it’s no big deal. “Sure, why not?”
I mull it over for a few seconds before nodding. “Okay. Yeah, that sounds fun.”
As soon as I agree, Mom frowns. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on her. She’ll be fine,” River adds.
Even though she technically doesn’t have a say in what I do, Mom chews her lower lip with indecision.
“Rebecca, let the kids have fun. They’ll be fine. River will watch out for his sister. He always does.”
Irritation pricks at me.
“I don’t need anyone to watch out for me.” I huff. “I’m almost twenty-one.”
Dad waves off my comment, attempting to make light of it. “I know, I know.”
This isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation. Unfortunately, it won’t be the last either. Holland’s words ring unwantedly in my ears. My parents really do need to cut the cord before I get strangled by it.
We all say our goodbyes before they head out and we’re joined by a few of River’s teammates. When we were younger, I knew all the guys my brother played hockey with. We attended the same school and they’d stop by the house after practice and in the summer. I’ve only met the players on River’s college team a handful of times.
It’s easy to see that everyone is flying high from the win. There are lots of smiles, laughter, and good-natured ribbing.
“Let’s grab something to eat and then hit up a bar or two,” a tall guy with rich brown, wavy hair says.
After everyone agrees, he flicks mossy-green colored eyes in my direction before doing a double take and upping the wattage of his smile. “Well, hello there.”
The greeting barely makes it past his teeth before River growls, “Back off, Higgins. That’s my sister.”
Tension fills my muscles as I wait for the inevitable but pray that this time will be different.
“She had fucking cancer.”
It’s like dropping a bomb in the middle of an unsuspecting town.
Air leaks painfully from my lungs as the happy chatter of seconds ago dies a quick death and the guys closest to us turn and stare like I’m a circus oddity. Heat scalds my cheeks as pity floods their eyes. As soon as I meet their gazes, they shift and glance away as if I’m contagious.
The cute guy who’d been flirting seconds ago looks properly chastised by my brother’s comment. He drags a hand through his damp strands and mumbles, “Oh. Sorry about that. I didn’t know.”
After most of his teammates turn away, I ball my hand and punch River in the bicep.
Not that he feels it.
When pain shoots through my fist, I shake it out and glare. “Did you seriously just blurt that out in front of everyone?”
With a frown, he jerks his shoulders. “What? What did I do?”
I narrow my eyes.
I love my brother, but sometimes, I just want to kill him.
Slowly.
With my bare hands.
This is one of those times.
It’s the main reason I decided to transfer after my sophomore year. I was tired of him hovering, outing my diagnosis before people could get to know me as a person, not a medical condition.
“You know exactly what you did,” I grumble, opening my purse and rifling through it for my keys.
Deep down, I knew this was a mistake.
When I pull them from the bag, River blurts, “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to say it.”
I pause with them clasped tightly in my hand. “If this is what the rest of the night will be like, then I’m just going to head home now and skip the embarrassment.”
“I’m sorry, Willow. I’m just…” His voice trails off. “Protective of you. I want everyone to understand that you’re off-limits.”
Even though I don’t want it to, everything softens inside me. It’s always been impossible for me to stay mad at River. “There was no need to humiliate me in order to get your point across.”
“You’re right. It was a shitty thing to do. Please don’t leave. I want you to come out and celebrate with us.”
It takes a minute or so for my muscles to loosen.
When I remain silent, he gives me sad, puppy-dog eyes. The ones I can never say no to. “Do you forgive me?”
“I don’t know,” I mutter, trying to hold on to the last wisps of my anger. “If I hear cancer or leukemia come out of your mouth one more time tonight, I won’t talk to you for a month. Maybe longer.”
He holds up his hand with a solemn promise. “I won’t say another word about it. I swear.”
“Fine.”
River throws a muscular arm around my shoulders before hauling me close. “We’re going to have a blast!”
The group moves en masse to the exit at the front of the building. Now that all cancer talk has screeched to a halt, the mood once again turns celebratory.