Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 112892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
What she didn’t say, and what we were all wondering, was what the hell we were doing out here. I suspected Diego had chosen this spot for lunch for privacy reasons, but I hadn’t seen Jenna, Evan, or Raymond all day, so it seemed dumb not to use the dining room. Fewer leaves falling in our food.
We took our seats as Aaron unpacked the large white bag he’d brought with him. First thing he opened up was a Styrofoam container of chicken noodle soup. “For you,” he said, putting it in front of Mia with a flourish.
She smiled. “Thank you, but I’m not sick.”
“Chicken noodle soup will help you stay that way,” Aaron said.
“I’m not sure that’s scientifically true.”
Aaron laughed. “You and Cody are the ones taking the chemistry class, so I’ll bow to your authority.” I snorted. Mia had felt well enough to attend class today, but it was such a long walk that we’d compromised. I’d propped my phone up on the desk next to me, facing the professor so that she could watch the lesson from home. Then I’d happily resumed ignoring Dr. Beringer. Listening in once this week had been enough.
Aaron continued to pull out a random assortment of containers. The logo on the bag was from a high-end deli I’d passed by but never ventured into. Too rich for my budget.
I ended up with a Mediterranean grain bowl that looked decent. Colorful and fairly well-balanced. I took a bite, chewing slowly. The chicken was okay—maybe a little dry. Not marinated long enough, probably. The quinoa had flavor but was a bit too chewy. Probably undercooked.
Grudgingly, I had to admit that it was nice out here. The sun was high in the sky. The remaining leaves in the trees held on valiantly despite the wind. The food was decent, if not spectacular. Yet I was pretty sure I wasn’t the only one who was as uncomfortable as hell.
Diego was quiet as he ate. He somehow gave off the impression that he was sitting at the head of the table even though it was a square folding table with equal sides. Aaron kept trying to draw Mia into conversation but got short answers in return. She didn’t look pissed, just… wary. As if she, too, knew that Diego hadn’t just randomly thought that today was a good day for a picnic.
As if reading my mind, he set down the rest of his sandwich and said, “It’s a nice day.”
Brilliant opening line, dude. But we all nodded.
“I thought it would be a good spot for us to talk.”
Crap.
“About what?” Mia asked. Her curls bounced across her shoulders as she turned her head.
Diego hesitated. “About you, actually.”
“I’m fine,” she said immediately. “I’m not going to be running any footraces, but I’m much better.”
“Good to hear,” Diego said, a bit absently. “But this is about something else. Something a little awkward.”
Shit. I wanted to say, if it’s awkward why bring it up? Not that that would stop him.
“The thing is, we’re all friends here and roommates,” Diego began. “And we need to keep certain boundaries in order to keep living in harmony. I know it might be a little difficult, since there aren’t many women living here.”
That was a lot of words that didn’t amount to anything.
Evidently, Mia thought so, too. “Just say what you mean.”
Diego sighed. “I think… I suspect that more than one person in this house has an interest in you, Mia. A romantic interest. And without some open communication, that could lead to hurt feelings and an uncomfortable living situation for us all.”
We all stared at him, even Aaron looking surprised though presumably it was his talk with Diego last night that had led to this.
Fire showed in Mia’s eyes, but when she spoke, she was calm and concise. “I see. I’ll try to keep my supposed romantic entanglements from making you uncomfortable.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about.” Diego said, and his gaze cut over to me. Right, because out of all the damaged people here, I was the most damaged. Good to know that was the prevailing thought.
“Leave me out of this,” I snapped.
“I can’t. It’s my job to make sure that we’re all comfortable living here.”
“No, it’s not,” Mia said. “It’s your job to keep the house running smoothly and to give a well-practiced welcome speech. You’re not a therapist.”
“Very true,” Diego said smoothly. “But I do try to step in if I feel that some of my roommates are going to get hurt.”
“Try stepping back out,” I muttered. There were so many things I wanted to say, but they always got jumbled up in my brain and didn’t come out right. Like what happened after the movie night with Mia.
“We’re not trying to put you on the spot, Mia,” Aaron said, and her head swirled to him. She might have felt a little betrayed, but at least he was man enough to admit that this dumbass conversation wasn’t just Diego’s idea.