Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 119650 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119650 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Addie gapes at me. “What kind of monster are you?” she demands. “You can’t burn it.” She takes a moment, scanning over everything to figure out a game plan. “Ummm … can you hand out a bunch of flowers to all the nurses who were looking after me, and if there’s extra you could drop them off at the women’s shelter. I’m sure some of them might like a bunch of flowers. Maybe offer them the chocolates too. The balloons can just get popped. I don’t think anyone will want them, and as for the stuffed bears, do you think they’ll take them to the nursery?”
I look over my sister, proud as fuck of the woman she’s growing into. Don’t get me wrong, she sure as hell has her immature moments and can be an infuriating brat, but then there’s times like this when she reminds me that she’s truly an amazing person with the sweetest heart. “I can always ask, but are you sure you don’t want to keep any of it?” I ask. The Addie I grew up with would have hoarded every last gift.
She presses her lips into a hard line and shakes her head. “No, it was nice of everyone to get them for me, but I don’t want them. They’re a blatant reminder of why I’m here and I don’t want that at home. I want to start fresh and try to put it all behind me, and seeing it every day—”
“I get it,” I tell her. “I’ll get rid of it all.”
Addie goes to stand, and I offer her my hand without thinking before quickly pulling it away. But it’s already too late. She saw it. “I can get up by myself,” she says, a harsh bite in her tone.
My face scrunches with a cringe. This isn’t the first time I’ve been bitched at over the past week for trying to help her, but what am I meant to say? I love that she’s doing everything she can to get back to where she was seven weeks ago, but I hate seeing her struggle and wish that she wasn’t so stubborn and could just accept help when it’s offered.
Dad returns a moment later with a wheelchair, and I do my best to hide a smirk as Addie glares at it. “Sorry, kid,” Dad says. “Hospital policy. You have to use it until we’re off the premises.”
Addison reluctantly makes her way toward Dad as he positions the wheelchair so she can easily sit down, and the moment she does, Dad begins piling her bags onto her lap and the handle before doing a second walk around the room, making sure he has everything. “You know,” Addie starts, watching me from across the room. “Hudson came and hung out with me yesterday.”
My gaze narrows as I turn my attention back on my sister, noticing the stuffed bear she’s been gripping since I got here this morning. “Why?”
“What do you mean why?” she questions, a slight hesitation in her eyes as she draws the bear back beside her, almost as if trying to hide it from view. “He’s always hung out with me while you and the guys were being your usual idiotic selves. He’s come a few times to check on me.”
My suspicion only gets worse, and I make a note to beat the shit out of Hudson for getting too close with my sister. He knows the rules, and if I find out it’s anything less than innocent, there’ll be hell to pay.
“What are you trying to tell me? Do you have a thing for Hudson?” I ask, trying to focus on the flowers and not be so blatantly obvious about how twitchy this topic makes me. After all, Hudson just happened to be here when Addie was waking up, and now she’s trying to tell me he’s been here a few more times. Surely if there was nothing going on, he would have mentioned it.
Right?
Fuck.
Addie gapes at me. “Seriously, after … everything, do you really think I want to spend my time obsessing over boys? We’re just friends. He’s nice and he doesn’t give me that pitying stare that I get from everyone else. Plus, he’s not one of those guys who always has to fill the silence. He’s happy to just sit there and stare at the wall just because it means I don’t have to be alone.”
I know her words are meant as a compliment and are supposed to ease the monster rearing its ugly head, but it’s not working even a little bit. “You’re not helping his case, Addie.”
She groans. “Uggggh, you’re impossible,” she says. “The only reason I brought it up was because he was telling me about Jax and Logan’s party and how your girlfriend got way too drunk and threw up in the pool, and you could imagine my surprise because my own freaking brother didn’t say a damn word about the fact he was seeing someone. I had to pretend like I already knew.”