Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 131821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Paige does come out then, and I can’t help but notice how pretty she is.
I think she might have cut her hair since I saw her last, the pretty, golden-blond locks reaching just below her shoulders, curling outward to give her an even more porcelain doll look. She’s nearly as short as I am but petite, with the body of a ballerina and the poise to match. Her posture is everything my mom wished mine would be, and her smile is soft, as are her features. She’s fairer than any of us, her cheeks tinted with a natural blush. When she smiles at Brady, he slaps a hand over his heart in pure, purposeful dramatics.
My eyes fall to the others.
Mason is staring, too.
My gaze slides back to her, taking in her white sundress, her flats the same bright blue as the flowers decorated across it. She’s like a walking doll. Chase shifts in my periphery, his eyes narrowed in her direction.
The radio flicks on, and I jolt in my seat, my eyes snapping forward, finding Mason staring at me with a blank expression. Slowly, his eyes slide to his friend outside the car, and I take that moment to sink farther in my seat.
Thankfully, everyone piles in, and I focus on giving Deaton all my attention. We play peekaboo and tickle monster. He spends at least ten minutes holding on to my finger, lifting and lowering it over and over again as his little arms flail.
I clap a few times, and he smiles, sticking his fingers in his mouth and making a little squeal. I laugh and hold my hands before him. It doesn’t take long for him to understand, and he grabs my fingers, pushing them together, helping me clap.
“Your turn, mister man.” I take his hands and clap them together.
He kicks his feet with excitement, making soft cooing sounds. I let go, hoping he’ll finally figure it out on his own, but he just reaches for mine again. We go back and forth for several minutes. Trying something new, I clap his hands a good five times, making animated smiles and sounds as I go. On the last clap, I let go but leave my palms hovering close to his own, and he instinctively follows the rhythm, his hands meeting in the middle with the softest little clap.
His blue eyes widen, as does my smile. He tries again, missing the first time and then again, clap, clap, clap.
“You did it!” I shout, my heart freaking melting when a laugh bubbles from his throat.
Both Chase’s and Mason’s heads whip around, both men pushing up in their seats to get a look at his face. I spare them a smile, quickly looking back to Deaton.
He claps again, so happy at the sound he’s creating that he keeps laughing, his little face turning red.
“How is this the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen?” Mason stares intently, his best friend chuckling at his side.
“’Cause it is.” Chase reaches back, brushing his fingers along Deaton’s curly hair.
Mason watches his friend’s every move, his frown deepening by the second. He, too, reaches back then, the frown wiped free when Deaton instantly wraps his fist around Mason’s pointer finger. He drags it right into his mouth, slobbering all over him before Mason can pull back.
“Always straight to the mouth, huh, my man?” Mason laughs, retreating slightly, and then he’s on his knees in his seat, stretching his torso over me.
I press against the seat, trying to disappear, but there’s nowhere to go, and then he’s right there, his face inches from mine, brown eyes as stormy as ever. I hold my breath, shocked at what he’s doing, panicking over the others seeing. But then his hand comes back up, and in it is the little plush football Deaton tossed a while ago.
Eyes still locked on mine, he passes the toy to Deaton. “Here you go, little man,” he murmurs, finally pulling back.
He spins in his seat, and I sink in mine, my cheeks burning. I don’t have to look up to know someone’s eyes are on me. I don’t know whose, but I feel them.
I peek to the screen on my phone.
Only four more hours.
Fuck my life.
It’s after dark when we pull up to the pump at the gas station. Ahead of us, everyone piles out at once, stretching and walking our way.
My brother gets out to pump the gas, and the others peek in, whispering when Kenra puts her fingers to her lips.
“He’s sleeping?” Ari coos, cupping her hands to look at him through the far back window before sticking her head back in her brother’s door once more. “How’s he done on the drive so far?”
“He’s been fine,” Mason answers before I can, and I frown.
“If crying for forty minutes until he was hiccupping in his sleep and freaking Mason out means fine, then he did perfectly fine,” Chase teases, leaning away when Mason reaches over to punch him on the arm.