Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
“The kid has a name,” Marnie whispers, matching my snarky tone. “I’ve noticed you never use it.”
I tilt my head. Is she right about that? If so, I’ve never noticed it myself.
I feel a tug on my pants. And then, the kid’s voice. Ripley’s voice. “Will you play dress-up with me and Naomi till Miss Roberts rings da bell?” She looks up at me through smudged lenses and smiles broadly. “All da tings for dress-up are over dere.” Ripley points her little finger toward an area that’s visibly bursting with colorful costumes, hats, and props.
“Nah. You and Naomi should dress up and give your mommy and me a fashion show,” I say. My eyes drift to Marnie’s, and it’s obvious she’s grateful I’ve expressly included her in my reply. Again, it’s a small thing, but also an olive branch, in context. “But first,” I say, interrupting Ripley’s and Naomi’s squealing delight, “let me clean your glasses, kid. Ripley. I don’t know how you can see a dang thing through those smudges.”
Ripley dutifully hands me her frames, and I clean them on my shirt while she hops from foot to foot and mutters, “Miss Roberts is gonna ring da bell soon.”
“Hold your horses,” I tease. “You wouldn’t even be able to see the costumes without my help.” Finally, I return the glasses, and Ripley slides them onto her face and gasps at the sudden clarity of her world.
“It’s a beautiful world, right?” I say.
Ripley beams a huge smile at me. “Beautiful.”
Aw, kid. I can’t help returning her massive smile. “Okay, go on now. Find something cool to impress us with.”
The girls sprint away with glee, and the minute they’re out of earshot, I turn to Marnie. “You told my mother about you and my father last night after drinking a little too much wine, I presume? That’s why my mother wanted to post that photo and caption for only him to see?”
Marnie nods, looking sheepish. “I guess I felt the need to unburden my guilty conscience. I’ve been dying to tell the truth for a very long time now.”
“Not to me, though. Only to my mother.”
Marnie grimaces. “Sorry.” She rubs her forehead and takes a deep breath, but she doesn’t say anything more than that.
Fuck. I’m feeling conflicting emotions. Anger. Disgust. And yet, sympathy for the look of remorse on Marnie’s face. “Listen, I can understand you not immediately telling me you’d fucked my father that same morning. You were probably in shock and freaking out in that moment. Like you said, your fight or flight instinct took over.”
“It did, and I chose flight. I went into a fugue state, I think.”
“Fair enough. What I think is really shitty of you, though, is that you didn’t get word to me later on. You could have easily gotten my number from Selena. But, nope. You chose, instead, to let me twist in the wind and rack my brain for a full year and a half about what happened between us.”
“I genuinely didn’t think you’d give me another thought. You’d talked a big game the night before about all your casual sexcapades. I figured I was just another notch in your belt.”
“Okay, but I’m a human being. How could I not wonder what the fuck happened? Everything was going great between us mere minutes before you bolted; and then, suddenly, you looked like you wanted to barf and couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I thought I’d gravely offended you. I thought I’d done something horrible, and I couldn’t figure out what. It’s only natural that I’d wonder—and that my inability to come up with a logical explanation would begin to torture me.”
“You felt tortured?” she asks incredulously. When I nod through my blush, she exhales and says, “Wow, I’m truly sorry about that, Max. I swear I thought you’d never even think about me again after that morning, let alone feel tortured.”
“Okay, well, maybe it didn’t rise to the level of torture. That’s an overstatement. I was baffled. Let’s not get it twisted, though. I didn’t lose sleep over you or whatever.”
Marnie pulls a face. “I feel like you’re speaking out of both sides of your mouth. Should I have gotten word to you through Grayson or not? If it wasn’t that big a deal to you, then maybe I was right to—”
“It would have been the courteous thing to do. The mature thing. That’s all I’m saying.”
Marnie’s clearly resisting the urge to roll her eyes. But she says, “Fair enough. I’m sorry.”
When she looks down, I study her for a moment. “Can you honestly say you never gave me another thought after that morning?”
Marnie looks up, her chest heaving. “I’ve already admitted I’ve fantasized about you since then. Honestly, you’ve been my go-to fantasy, every time I’m engaging in a bit of self-love. But I guess that makes sense, since you’re the last man I’ve been with.”