Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 97882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“I’ll get curtains, okay?”
He didn’t seem convinced.
“Remember why I love it,” I told him — begged him.
The inhale he dragged through his nose was enough to cause a draft in the room, but he softened with the exhale, uncrossing his arms and hugging me in return. He pressed a quick kiss to my forehead before pulling back.
“I know,” he said. “Doesn’t mean I want to see it.”
“Fair enough,” I conceded. Then, I hung my hands on my hips, chewing the inside of my cheek. “Thank you, Dad. For letting me do this.”
He nodded, then made his way to the kitchen to continue unpacking a box that did not include a chrome apparatus I would be clinging to while half naked.
I decided to wait to put the pole up until later, settling on a box labeled bedroom, instead. It was a miracle my father was trusting me enough to live on my own — well, with a roommate, but without him. It was the first time in my new adult life that he’d granted the permission to do so, and I had a feeling it was because he felt guilty moving me in the middle of my junior year of college last spring when he took the job as head coach of the North Boston University football team.
Not that I cared.
It wasn’t like I left a group of friends behind — like I had any friends at all. I’d given up on trying to establish anything close to a relationship, friendly or otherwise, since the night I lost my sister.
As if the universe heard my thoughts, I opened the box on the floor to find a picture of Abby looking back at me.
What was left of my heart stuttered at the sight, at the neon blue eyes, the wide smile, the way she hugged my waist like I was her best friend while I stood there looking annoyed with life — like always.
But I didn’t cry, didn’t pick up the picture and run a hand over the glass, didn’t do anything other than set it aside and continue unpacking the personal items beneath it.
The front door burst open, and I glanced up at the frazzled girl who stumbled through the entryway, arms loaded with shopping bags.
She paused at the sight of me, her dark sunglasses sliding down her nose a bit. She arched a brow over them, taking in the length of me as I did the same to her.
I knew without asking who she was — Mary Silver, my new roommate.
We’d found each other through an app that reminded me of a dating app, except it matched you with potential roommates in the Boston area, instead. We’d both “swiped right” on each other, and after a couple nights of conversing, decided we could tolerate each other enough to live together. That was maybe what I’d liked most about her — she wasn’t bubbly and annoying, she wasn’t trying to be my best friend, she wasn’t expecting anything other than for me to pay my bills on time.
I felt the same.
My first impression of her in person was that she was gorgeous. That much I ascertained within seconds.
Her long blonde hair was styled in waves over her shoulders, her makeup immaculate, blush-painted lips and cat-lined eyes that made me wonder if she did it professionally. She wore a forest green dress covered in delicate flowers, her lush hips and thick thighs straining the fabric and calling attention to her curves I was already envious of. She paired that dress with a leather jacket it was far too hot to be wearing and black combat boots, and I noted the tattoos visible on her legs, her sternum, the piercings through the septum of her nose, and lining both her ears.
A subtle tilt of her chin was her first greeting. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I said back.
Dad paused where he was unpacking in the kitchen, and though he looked pleasant enough on the outside, I knew as his daughter what he was thinking as he eyeballed my new roommate.
Mary’s eyes drifted to the half-built pole in the middle of the floor.
“You dance?”
I shrugged. “Tricks and combos mostly, but I dance sometimes, too.”
She nodded, bottom lip poking out like she was impressed and maybe a little surprised. “Cool. Just don’t break anything. I want to get our deposit back.”
With that, she slid past me and Dad both, on her way down the back hallway toward the stairs that led to our rooms. She glanced into the kitchen as she passed. “’Sup, Pops.”
I actually felt the corners of my mouth tilt up at that, at how my dad’s eyebrow slid into his hairline with the greeting.
Once Mary climbed the stairs and shut her bedroom door, Dad looked at me.
“She seems nice,” I said.
He blinked but refrained from saying anything else and went back to unpacking.