End of Story (End of Story #1) Read Online Kylie Scott

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Funny, Romance Tags Authors: Series: End of Story Series by Kylie Scott
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
<<<<5666747576777886>87
Advertisement


“If you think I give a fuck that you want to put on something old and comfortable then you are sadly mistaken. And it’s not as if you’ve ever made any real attempt to tone down the things you say around me.” He crooked his finger in my direction. “Come here.”

I climbed into his lap and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me to his chest.

“You’re going to get algae face mask on you,” I said.

“I don’t care,” he mumbled. “I know who you are and I am not going to change my mind. I am not some careless asshole who’s going to mess with your heart.”

“I know you’re not, but...”

He pressed a kiss to my messy hair. “But?”

“This would probably be my neuroses making an appearance.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“Want to get Greek for dinner? You could get the gyro platter and I’ll get the moussaka and then we’ll swap.”

He smiled. “Sounds good.”

My cell vibrated on the coffee table. Mom flashed up on screen. “I should probably get that. I’ve been expecting this call.”

In lieu of a response, he started rubbing my back. A suitable reaction to any contact with my family. The man was learning.

I picked up the phone and answered. “Hi, Mom. How are you?”

“Susie. We’re good. How are you, sweetie?”

“I’m good.”

“Great,” she said. “Listen. Your brother called me having a meltdown. Do you know what that’s about?”

This was a time-honored tactic of my mother’s. To pretend to be unaware of any possible contention between Andrew and me in hopes of staying out of it. Not that it worked. Case in point.

“It was about money,” I said. “Did he ask you to call me?”

“Oh, good Lord. He went on and on.” Note her avoidance as my question remained unanswered. She sighed heavily. “I don’t know what to tell him. Do you have any ideas?”

“No.”

“Maybe you could give him a call.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

“Why ever not?” she asked. “He’s your brother.”

“Because he came over uninvited, stood on my front porch, and yelled at me. That’s not behavior I’m going to encourage. And I don’t owe him any money. You can tell him that if you like.”

Silence.

“Just out of curiosity, Mom, did you give him money for his new business?”

Mom cleared her throat, gearing up for more avoidance. “Andrew said you had some lowlife man with you? That he threatened him?”

“That lowlife man would be my new partner, Lars,” I said. “He just moved in with me and we’re very happy together. I’ve been meaning to call and tell you about him. It’d be great if you could meet sometime.”

“You’re seeing someone? How exciting!” Mom enthused. “When are you going to bring him for a visit?”

“We’re both pretty busy right now. But we’ll definitely have to organize that sometime soon.”

“Wonderful. Tell me all about him.” Mom, having entirely sidestepped the nonsense with Andrew, happily interrogated me about Lars for the next ten minutes. She loved good gossip. I think it made us both feel close.

When we finally hung up, Lars gave me a smile. “Your brother’s been busy, huh?”

“What’s that saying about the squeaky wheel getting the grease?”

He grunted. “You done trying to talk me out of loving you?”

“Guess so. You didn’t seem to be especially receptive to my demonstration.”

“You have to admit,” he said, “your demonstration was kind of ridiculous.”

“With more time to prepare, I could—”

“Just try trusting me?”

“Right. That’s exactly what I was going to say.” I laid my head on his shoulder. “Did you know you’re my favorite person in the whole wide world?”

“I do now.” He pressed his cheek against the top of my head. “You going to wash that green stuff off your face sometime?”

I smiled. “Eventually.”

* * *

Deborah and Henning’s fortieth wedding anniversary was held the next weekend in a jazz bar and restaurant near their home. It was a cool space with a checkered floor and lots of wrought iron. A four-piece band was set up in the corner playing classics.

“You ready?” asked Lars.

I nodded and passed him my half-full plate of chicken enchiladas with black beans and chopped salad. He passed me his half-eaten Cajun-spiced grilled catfish with rice and greens.

“They do this,” Tore explained to his sister. “Weirdos.”

Ella just nodded. “It makes more sense than me stealing my husband’s food every time he orders something I want to try.”

“Right?” I asked. “This way we both get to try two things.”

Ella was tall and blonde like Lars. She was a radiographer in San Diego, where she lived with her husband and two small children. Since Henning and Deborah visited them a few weeks back, Emilio and the kids stayed home this trip. Which was fair enough. I don’t think I’d want to wrangle two toddlers at a party either.

Cleo was at the bar chatting with Deborah. Because of course they got on like a house on fire. I was the only one who’d been besmirched by the Ex and his mom. But it was great that Deborah saw how wonderful my best friend was. How lucky Tore had been to catch Cleo.


Advertisement

<<<<5666747576777886>87

Advertisement