Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
I open my eyes and find Blakely dressed and standing over the bed with a frown on her face as she tries to wake up our son.
“I don’t wanna,” he whines. “My throat is itchy.”
Blakely sighs and her eyes momentarily close.
“He woke up earlier and said that,” I tell her. “Then he asked to sleep with us.”
“He gets allergies around this time. The pollen in the air messes with him, especially at night.” She puts her hand to his forehead. “It could be the beginning of a cold, but he doesn’t have a fever.”
“Well, good morning,” Sierra says, stepping into the room with a wide knowing smile on her face. “So, we’ve reached the sleepover step. Niicceee. When can we expect a proposal?”
“Hush it,” Blakely groans, but I can hear the laughter in her voice.
I sit up, forgetting I’m shirtless, and Sierra smirks. “I have one question: does your twin brother look exactly like you?”
I laugh, and Blakely groans again.
“What?” Sierra throws her hands up. “I might not be able to date him, but I can still fantasize about him. And judging by what your man is sporting over there, there’s plenty to fantasize about.”
“Why can’t you date my brother?” I ask.
“Because he’s family.” Sierra gives me a duh look.
“It’s hardly incest. I can’t speak for Blakely, but if you want to date Kolton, have at it. The guy can use a little fun in his life.”
“I agree,” Blakely says. “I already told you I don’t care who you date.”
Sierra’s face lights up, but she quickly tampers it down. “Maybe.” She shrugs. “I was just coming to say goodbye to the little guy, but it looks like he’s still asleep.” She glances at her phone. “You’re running late this morning.”
“I know,” Blakely says. “Wait! You’re going to work? Didn’t you work late last night?”
“I have three interviews to do today.”
“Shit,” Blakely curses under her breath.
“What’s wrong?” Sierra asks.
“Zane is refusing to wake up. He woke up in the middle of the night with a sore throat. Probably just allergies, but you know how cranky he is when he doesn’t get a full night of sleep.”
“Do you need me to watch him?” I ask, and both women look at me.
“Don’t you have class?” Blakely asks.
“So do you,” I point out.
“Well, yeah, but I’m his mom.”
I know her answer isn’t meant as a dig, but it still doesn’t sit right with me. Not wanting to wake up Zane, I climb out of the bed and throw my shirt on. The three of us walk out of the room and into the living room.
“I’m Zane’s dad.”
“No, I know…” she says, trying to backpedal.
“Which means if he’s not feeling well, and someone has to stay home, I can do it too. Sierra has to work, and you told me last night you have a test.”
“I know, you’re right. Are you sure you don’t mind watching him?” Her top teeth worry her bottom lip. “It would only be until a little after noon.”
“Let’s get something straight,” I say, stepping toward her. I pull her fleshy lip out from her teeth before she breaks the skin. “I wouldn’t be watching him. He’s my son. You don’t watch him, do you? You take care of him. I’ve missed three years of taking care of him. I’m here now and I want to be a part of his life, part of parenting him. If we had been together when he was born, this wouldn’t even be an issue. I’d be just as much of his parent as you are.”
Sierra is the first to speak. “And… swoon.” She winks. “I’ve got to get to work.” She kisses Blakely’s cheek and whispers, “He’s right, you know,” and then with her purse slung over her shoulder, exits the apartment.
“So, what do you say?” I ask, once it’s just the two of us. “It’s only for a few hours, and you won’t be far away. If I have any problems, I promise to call.”
“Okay.” She steps into my space and gives me a kiss. “Thank you. I didn’t mean anything by what I said. I’m just used to it only being Sierra and me and occasionally Brenton.” At his name, I still.
“He watches Zane?”
“Only once in a while,” she says, backing away and grabbing her backpack. She heads into the kitchen and I follow her, wanting to find out what once in a while means, but before I can ask, she hands me a small green and white bottle. “This is for Zane’s allergies. When he wakes up, after he’s eaten breakfast, give him one. I will reassess him when I get home. Don’t let him talk you into a million snacks. He can have as much fruit as he wants, but only one snack between meals, and no matter what he says, ice cream is not allowed for breakfast or lunch.” She smirks. “Thank you.”