Total pages in book: 191
Estimated words: 182070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
“You look really tired, B. You getting some sleep? Or is the g-a-s getting to you?”
The older woman in the elevator glanced at us, obviously because she knew how to spell, and I shook my head at Boogie with a grin on my face.
“No, it’s not the g-a-s. And I am getting some sleep. If four hours a night, six days a week counts.”
His mouth went flat, and I knew I was in for it when he put his hands on his hips like the overprotective cousin-brother he was. “Four hours isn’t enough. We talked about this already. You need sleep. Get some sunshine while you’re at it too. You can’t be cooped up at the gym or at your apartment all day. Get some sun on those pale arms.”
I wrinkled my nose at him.
He just kept on making a face at me. “I’m serious. It’s important. I know you’re only working part-time at Maio House now, but I bet you’re still doing your Lazy Baker stuff every minute you’re not there. I thought that was why you cut your hours back.”
He wasn’t wrong.
“Please, B. From one workaholic to another, you need to make time for you. Go ahead and quit now that you settled things with that shithead,” my cousin said. “And take a probiotic or two to help with the g-a-s.”
I stopped wrinkling my nose and nodded, smiling a little… and pressing my hands down on my lower stomach again. The thing was, Connie had told me pretty much the same exact thing a couple days ago. And I’d seen my face in the mirror lately. I was tired. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d left my house to do something that wasn’t grocery shopping or going to work.
He had a point. They both did. These two people who loved me.
But I did genuinely love working and having a purpose so… I’d figure it out.
Boogie kicked me again in the back of the thigh like he knew exactly where my mind had gone. “I need to go down to Houston for a couple meetings coming up. Want to get some wings?”
“With you? Nah, I’m good.”
Boogie kicked me once more, and I laughed. Like I would ever say no to spending time with him. Please. “I saw one of your short videos, the one-minute long ones; it popped up on my timeline the other day. Someone shared it. It was the one of you and Connie trying to make s’mores using an electric grill. It made me crack up.”
“You liked when I burned myself and yelled?” I snickered, pinching him on the back of the arm lightly. “I’m making zucchini cookies for my next ‘healthy’ recipe. I saw a recipe for zucchini bread, and it got me thinking.”
Boogie, who was used to the food I had made a little bit of a name for myself creating, tried not to show his disbelief but failed. Big-time. And he couldn’t hide the vague disgust in his voice. “Zucchini cookies, B? Really? You can’t just make chocolate chip?” my cousin asked, totally letting another potentially uncomfortable conversation go.
Thank God.
I nodded slowly and then reached up to try and jab my finger up his nose for maybe the millionth time in our lives. “I’ll mail you some. You’ll eat them, and you’ll like them.”
Boogie dry heaved as he ducked away with a laugh that made me miss him so much in that moment, that I couldn’t help but wonder if I should move back to Austin to be closer to him.
Or move closer to Connie again.
It wasn’t like there was really anything keeping me in Houston now after all. I’d kicked that reason out of my life and hadn’t regretted it for a second since. But that was the only thing I’d done right in that whole situation.
I needed to keep moving forward, because I sure wasn’t planning on moving backward.
Chapter Four
I had only been waiting for a couple minutes by the wrought iron fence that surrounded my apartment complex when a familiar, sleek, silver car pulled up behind a big black truck at the gate to go in.
It was my neighbor, the hot one who I’d heard through the grapevine had broken up with his girlfriend two months ago. I knew a couple of the neighbors had made bets on who was going to be the one to keep the apartment when it’d been clear things were going downhill for them. Apparently, he’d won.
I wasn’t exactly disappointed, even though I rarely got to see Santiago.
And I was suddenly a little grateful that, if I were going to be waiting by the visitor’s lot for Boogie to come pick me up, at least I was looking about as decent as I usually managed to get. Nothing got me to put some effort in like hanging out with my cousin, who didn’t know the meaning of “hot mess.” Plus, it had been a good day off. I’d gotten not one but two new vlogs filmed for my WatchTube channel and Picturegram account. And when I’d talked to Deepa again about quitting Maio House, she seemed into it. Between videos while we ate lunch, she had even started going through online ads for businesses hiring, and I’d watched her send a couple emails out for more details. That was more than she’d done the last few times I’d brought it up.