Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 50770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
I stand in front of the white wall after placing flowers on her bed and I give her a stare that I hope puts the fear of God into her, then sa,. “Let’s finish up here, then you’re coming home.”
She opens her mouth.
I shake my head.
“My home. You’re moving in. Hope your DoorDash game is strong either that or cooking because I think I have one cracker left, a half bottle of wine that tastes like shit, and an old pancake mix that might kill you before Lupus. Oh also, if you need a kidney, I’ve always wanted to see what it’s like to go under the knife. Bad joke? Probably, but I’m here for you. So let’s get this done and Zane, I swear if you keep smiling at me right now, I’m going to kill you. Leave. Out. And thanks for the heads up.” Tears stream down Chloe’s cheeks. “All right, what sort of cheese do I need to go buy so you stop crying?”
She cries harder as Zane leaves.
I know what I need to do.
So I do it.
I walk over to her side and I stand.
I don’t sit.
I just grab her hand and hold it.
Because sometimes we don’t want someone to sit and look at us with pity, nah, sometimes what we need is someone to stand by us.
With strength.
Chapter Eighteen
Chloe
“So now I’m living with a guy that nearly died by bungee?” I joke while laying on the nice black leather couch with a soft blue blanket covering my feet and more food and hydration than I could possibly ask next to me on a tray.
He has fruit.
He has vegetables.
He has Gatorade.
He weirdly decided a turkey leg would be the best way to go. Boys.
Oatmeal.
Doritos, because who doesn’t need those to heal?
And I’m pretty sure he has enough ice cream bars in the freezer to kill me with sugar and dairy alone.
Sarah went over the diet with him and he just ran with it but wanted me to have some treats too, I mean it should just be vegetables, healthy grains, fruits, yes some lean proteins but the guy literally asked me if he should go fishing for a salmon.
I reminded him that we didn’t actually have fresh water salmon in the ocean and got a death glare.
“Funny, very funny.” Quinn brings over a bowl of pasta. “I just made this so if it sucks, know that I accidentally at one point dropped half the salt in it but scooped it out so we should be good to go.” He makes a face. “If not, I’ll start over, the pasta is whole grain, and I made homemade sauce, I may have stolen a few tomatoes from Zanes garden down the street, but he won’t even notice, the guy has a black thumb.”
I laugh. “He gardens?”
“Correction,” Quinn puts the bowl of pasta on the tray in front of me. “He pretends to garden but pays a gardener, his wife turns a blind eye because she gets awesome food and the little dude loves it.”
“How old is he?”
“Zane?”
“Little dude.”
Quinn laughs. “Oh, he’s an adult if you ask him, but he’s two, thinks he should be in college, uses big words like elephant and poop, pretty awesome if you ask me.”
“Ah poop is a big word, good for him.”
“Took me years to learn that one.” Quinn winks. “I’d just point at my ass and smile.”
“And yet, why do I feel like you still do that?” I tease.
His smile lights up the room as he sets himself on the couch and grabs the blanket like we’ve done this a million times. He puts my feet in his lap, hands me a fork, and says, “May the odds ever be in your favor.”
I take the fork. “You know, even if it’s salty, I won’t say a word.”
“I can smell lies.”
“Says the poop master.”
“Hey! I shared in confidence!” He throws his head back and laughs, damn he’s beautiful, it shouldn’t be right. He’s like my own personal Clark Kent on the couch, and my Superman at the hospital.
I want to say I don’t deserve him, but that’s what sick people do, we say we don’t deserve good things because we’re told by others that we shouldn’t be sick in the first place and are already like this heaviness to society, instead, I tell myself in that moment.
Mine.
I’m hiding one more secret. One more to keep to myself, does he really need to know? I’m too immersed in the fact that he hasn’t run away screaming or told me I’m too much.
So I silence my lips and decide to put them to good use instead.
I, in that moment, really do become my twin, because I know I’m manipulating with my mouth even though I say no words.
I lean in and kiss him.
His lips are soft, but not eager, he quickly pulls back. “As much as I want to kiss you right now, you’re pale and even pale you’re pretty, but I need you to eat, to take care of yourself and if that means I need to be a jackass, then so be it.” His hand reaches out and cups my cheek gently, his fingers are warm, strong. I like the way they feel against my skin. Quinn has the power to both be gentle and a total ass, and I love it. Sometimes you need both, I think I’m one of those people.