Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 57139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“Don’t excuse yourself,” she snapped, tossing me a look that could peel paint. “You’ve finally got the girl in your bed and you think I’m going to clap for you like some giddy TikTok fan? Please. I’ve been waiting a decade for you idiots to figure it out.”
“Then maybe—thank you?” I tried, rubbing a hand over my jaw.
She narrowed her eyes, softer this time. “Don’t thank me. Don’t screw it up.”
The weight of it landed heavier than any threat.
I cleared my throat, trying to sound like a man in control and not a kid who’d just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Or, you know…Harper.
“Why are you here exactly?” I asked, eyeing her like she might sprout fangs. “And why did you think you needed something this huge—”
Whack.
A dish towel cracked across my arm.
“Ow! That hurts!”
Her eyes gleamed, wicked. “Do you even realize how many sicknesses I’ve faked? How many brunches I’ve spiked your drink?”
I froze. “That was you?”
She waved me off like I was the slowest student in remedial math. “The real winner should’ve been the ammonium. But I got the dosage wrong, and let me tell you—nothing’s sexy about a man camping out in the powder room. No matter how attractive the throne of lies, Ezra, a throne of lies is still a throne of lies.”
I blinked at her. “You drugged me.”
She sniffed. “Don’t be dramatic. It was just enough to keep you home and near Harper. A nudge. A push. You think either of you was going to figure this out on your own? Please. I’m old, not patient.”
“So,” I asked, cautious. “What? Do I just…sit here and wait?”
She blinked, then let out the most offended scoff I’d ever heard. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you also need a detailed, color-coded map? I swear, you lead a horse to water and the horse just drowns itself, doesn’t it? Or it stands there whining—‘oh no, what if the water’s too hot, too cold, too deep, I’m allergic.’ Damn Gen Z.”
I cleared my throat. “I think I’m a super-young millennial, math-wise.”
Her glare could’ve peeled wallpaper.
I held up my hands. “Anyway. I mean…Aaron’s obviously not going to be happy when she picks me, but I guess everything’s over with now. So I just wait.”
By the weight of her silence, it was clearly not the right answer.
“Be a man of action. Confess.”
My entire body went rigid. “I slept with her. Pretty sure she overheard my confession over the phone with my idiot brother. What more do you want—a rib?”
She rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle she didn’t fall over. “Don’t be ridiculous. We already tried the rib, and look how that turned out. If anything, women should’ve given men a spare rib so you idiots could rub extras together and maybe generate more brain cells. But alas—here we are.” She threw up her hands like I was hopeless.
Then she leaned in, eyes sharp, voice low. “The world thinks you dated. You didn’t. The world thinks you were the one who got away—you weren’t. You were the one who stood silently, confidently, at her side. Do you know how rare that is? How many relationships never even start because people are too afraid of what it might look like if it’s different? You can inspire. You can come clean. You can help her win more than just your heart. Show her she’s a hero—not for giving you another chance, but for being smart enough to look in your direction in the first place. And thank her, dumb-dumb, for choosing you.”
She patted me on the head like I was five. “You’ll figure it out. Now, I’m off to Italy.”
I did a double take. “Wait—right now?”
Grandma Blue winked. “Take care of the place for me, will you? I won’t be back for a few months. Oh—and don’t get married until I’m home. I have big plans. But do have as much sex as possible. I want a great-grandchild before I croak. Bye now!”
She left the same way she came: out the door like nothing on earth could stop her. A flurry of perfume, confusion, and inconvenient inspiration.
I just stood there, jaw slack, staring at the door she’d slammed behind her.
Then, slowly, I reached for my phone. My thumb hovered over Harper’s name—then drifted away. I had her logins. I had access to everything. But more importantly… I had access to my own channel.
With a sigh that felt more like a battle cry, I dragged my laptop onto the kitchen table, flipped it open, and whispered, “here goes nothing.”
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FIVE
HARPER
I used your toothbrush at least five times without asking permission, I also used hot water, and then swore I would never confess it, so if we’re doing this, you need to know, I’m a disgusting pig who lies. Also, you snore—but I really like it.