Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 105756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
“Starting off at the deep end, I see,” Rhys commented. He was my brother-in-law, Shay’s, cousin, and though I got the sense he found me a bit of a pretentious prick, which to be fair I did come across as at times, we’d slowly started to enjoy one another’s company. Derek, Rhys’ best friend, sat with his back to the wall, his attention glued to his phone. He looked like he hadn’t shaved in a week and was in need of a haircut, too. We’d been acquaintances for years, but I didn’t know him well enough to surmise what might be the cause of whatever it was he was going through.
“No point in starting anywhere else,” I replied and began pouring shots for the table. “How’s that gorgeous fiancée of yours? Any chance I might be able to lure her away from your sullen arse?”
“My gorgeous fiancée is at home, happily pregnant with my child,” Rhys answered back pointedly, and I chuckled. The lovely American, Charli, was just my type, and though Maggie had tried briefly to set us up, she’d only had eyes for the rugged, dark-haired bastard who sat next to me.
“Well, I’ve always thought pregnant women to be very—”
Best not to finish that sentence, Shay cut in, hands flying up. I’d been learning sign language the last few months and was doing a lot better interpreting what he said.
I raised my hands and looked to Rhys. “Fine. Felicitations to you on your coming nuptials and offspring. Now, who’ll join me in a shot?”
Shay glanced at the bottle of tequila with raised eyebrows. He wasn’t a heavy drinker, so I was surprised when he accepted the shot glass I slid his way.
Derek took the offered shot, too, downed it, then slid it back for a refill. “I like your style,” I said, no intention of trying to dig up whatever was getting the bloke down. Sometimes you just had to let people sort their heads out in their own time.
We passed a few hours getting hammered. Every once in a while, Rhys would try to broach the subject of Derek’s sudden personality change, but Derek was adept at switching topics, and in the end, Rhys got nowhere in luring his friend to open up.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so drunk. I felt pleasantly numb, the alcohol blocking my head from going to painful places as we left the bar. To my dismay, it wasn’t as effective at blocking thoughts of Ada, the feel of her warm body reaching across mine in the car on our journey to work. The thoughtful, emotive way she studied me sometimes. I relished her attention but also felt uneasy about being so seen. If Ada saw the true depths of how twisted up and broken I was inside over Mam, what would she think of me?
Then I thought of her being driven home from work by Ben and what sort of conversation might’ve transpired between them. In all honesty, I couldn’t blame my driver for noticing her beauty. Those hauntingly stunning brown eyes had begun to infiltrate my dreams.
I’m going to hail you a cab, Shay signed, looking a little worried over my drunken state. I gave him a bleary-eyed thumbs up while bumming a smoke from an attractive lady who was standing nearby with her friends. She handed me the cigarette, eyeing me up and down like she was considering asking for an invite back to my place. Huh, perhaps that would be a good way to take my mind off Ada. Just as I thought it, Shay dragged me away, slipping my arms into my suit jacket and sliding my tie back around my neck—I had no memory of removing either.
“Dearest brother-in-law, you’re cockblocking me,” I complained while Shay pulled the lit cigarette from my mouth, threw it on the ground and stomped it out. “Hey! I was enjoying that.”
I promised Maggie I’d look out for you, he signed. Besides, you don’t smoke. There’s no need to start a new bad habit.
“I’ll have you know I smoke cigars on special occasions. And you can tell Maggie I don’t need babysitting.”
Shay only arched a cynical eyebrow, and given my current dishevelled state, perhaps I did need a small bit of babysitting. A taxi pulled up, and Shay typed out my address on his phone before showing it to the driver. Clearly, he didn’t even trust me to remember where I lived.
Text me when you’re home, he signed, and I nodded, waving him off.
By the time we reached my building, I pulled several notes from my wallet and handed them to the driver to pay the fare. Then I stumbled my way to the door. Larry was there to let me in.
“Fun night, Mr Oaks?” he asked as I headed for the elevator.