Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 89536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
She volleys questions in my direction, arms falling to her sides as she vocalizes this last part, the possibility that I’m here hiding out a sober reality for Molly.
“No this wasn’t the closest toilet, no I am not on the run from anything or anyone, and no I’m not hiding from the baby’s father.”
“Ahh, so it’s not food poisoning.” Her eyes sparkle at me knowingly, the little smartass. Did she just trick me, or am I just an idiot with a big mouth?
Yes.
“I’m between apartments.”
Not that it’s any of her business. But if I’m going to be staying here, it’s probably a good idea to get along with the neighbors.
“Between apartments…what does that mean?” the kid asks. “Does it mean you got kicked out of your place?”
Does this teenager trust anyone? Sheesh! I’m getting the third degree here, and this is none of her concern!
“It means I don’t have a place to live. It means my roommate failed to pay the rent so the landlord graciously offered our home to his beloved niece.”
Molly’s mouth puckers disapprovingly. “I’m sure it was nothing personal. He’s a businessman.”
Wow.
Just…wow. The way this girl’s brain works is blowing my mind.
I glare up at her. “I’m sure you’re right.”
“Does Tripp know you’re crashing here?”
I roll my eyes. “Tripp is my brother—I don’t need his permission to stay in his guest bedroom.” I glance at her again. “Are you an only child?”
“Yes.” Molly seems confused by my question, so I go on to explain.
“I’m the baby of the family—Tripp is the oldest, then Trace, then me. They’ve always spoiled me rotten even when they tease and make fun of me. I’ve always been able to crash with them when I need to without an invitation.” To appease her, I add, “And trust me, I am very aware that my brother has a new girlfriend and I would never interfere with that. I’m just…”
Desperate.
“Besides,” I moan, “I’ve helped both those yahoos plenty—with job contacts, relationship advice, mediating arguments between them and our parents, buying gifts for other people, making sure they don’t look like assholes during the holidays. Birthdays. Pet sitting.” I give Molly what’s probably a groggy, half-lidded smile. “I am his sister, and this is what brothers do. They let their loser sisters crash in their spare rooms.”
He won’t care that I’m here.
What he will care about is that I’m sick, and along with that will come questions—if I thought Molly was nosey, she has nothing on my brother.
Skeptical is Tripp’s middle name.
“Maybe we shouldn’t say anything to my brother about my feeling sick.” I run a hand over my tummy, no baby bump yet forming there, still as smooth as it was weeks ago. “He tends to overreact.”
Our other brother Buzz is a thousand times worse, which is the reason I’m not at his house instead. ’Cause that would be the worst idea ever.
He’d be all up in my business, and it wouldn’t take him long to sniff out the truth.
“Mr. Wallace, overreacting?” Molly grunts. “Ya think?”
I’m sensing some sarcasm. “It’s not that I want to keep secrets from my brother—I know I should tell him and I will—but I don’t want him freaking out.” I pause, biting on my lower lip. “I have to figure it out before I blurt it out. He’ll have a heart attack. I need to ease into this like a pair of leather pants.”
The teenager’s brows go up. “Leather pants?”
“Um, never mind. Bad joke, ha ha.” And a bad Halloween outfit, one that ended in lots of baby powder inside the pants and plenty of bellyaching. “I just worry he’s going to make this about him.”
The teenager laughs. “Have you met your brother?” Another laugh. “Food poisoning he may be able to handle. You being preggo? He’s going to freak. Out! Especially if he sees you down there holding on to the toilet. Mr. Wallace is so high-strung.”
“Tripp thinks he has to know everything. Try being related to him.” Plus, he’s used to being dominant and in charge, and this house is his house and therefore his domain, so naturally he will want to know what’s going on under his own roof.
“I just don’t think it’s wise keeping secrets from him, especially if you can’t keep your cookies down. I don’t want to be fired if he finds out I knew about this.”
Cookies down?
Oh, she means barf.
I groan, the thought of anything sweet making my stomach want to lurch again.
“No, I get it. You don’t even know me.”
Molly nods and crosses her arms. “Just so you know, I’m kind of Mr. Wallace’s right hand around here, so like, don’t ask me to lie for you about other stuff. I don’t want to lose my job—he pays me good money and I don’t want to get a job in, like, retail if I can avoid it. The mall sucks this time of year.”