The Bookworm's Guide to Faking (The Bookworm's Guide #2) - Emma Hart Page 0,17
take you over my knee and beat your ass if you keep giving me attitude.”
“No attitude,” I said quickly. “Just conversing. I haven’t had my coffee yet.”
“Mmm.” The line crackled. “Well, your shoes have been delivered to our house instead of yours and you need to come get them.”
“The wedding shoes?”
“No, Sebastian, your flip-flops for this sub-tropical weather we’re having.”
I glanced out the window at the thin layer of ice that had settled on the grass and coated my large front yard. Even my truck held a layer of white, icy shit on it.
Now who had the attitude?
“They were supposed to go to your house,” I replied. “Like the suit. Remember?”
“No.”
“Ask Kate. I didn’t organize any of this. I’m just paying for the venue and being a good brother.”
She harrumphed. “Keep your phone line clear. And put it on ring. This is a very important time in your sister’s life!”
“Understood. Bye, Mom.” I hung up and immediately dialed my sister. Before she could say a word, I said, “Momzilla is calling you.”
“Motherfu—”
I cut her off before she could finish her curse, knowing that Mom would already be trying to get through.
Honestly, that woman needed to be in the White House.
She got shit done.
World poverty? Cured in six months. Virus outbreaks? She’d verbally beat them into submission. Terrorists? She’d have them confessing in two minutes and begging for the death penalty by lunchtime.
Trust me.
I’d begged for it once or twice in my life.
I picked up my mug and went to the living room. Recovery was a weird business—I was so used to doing something, to training, to being busy, that the knowledge that I had absolutely nothing to do other than get my shoulder better was almost haunting.
And I was bored.
I was so fucking bored.
I had nothing to do. Some people begged for this, and sure, I’d occasionally had moments where I, too, had wanted free time to do nothing but watch TV and lounge around like a kept gentleman.
Now that I had it, I wanted to do anything but this.
I put down my coffee and got back up off the sofa. I’d just had a shower, but my legs were itching for something to do. Running was on my approved list of exercises because it was gentle on my shoulder, so I was going to go for a jog and see if I could burn off some of this antsy energy I was carrying around.
I grabbed some socks from the laundry room, then put them on followed by my sneakers. After pausing to pick up my phone, keys, and wallet, I headed out into the chilly morning air.
The cold washed over me, and I sighed. Apparently, getting all worked up had made me hotter than I’d realized, and the early winter air was a welcome relief from that.
After walking for a minute, I broke into a gentle jog and headed in the direction of town. I knew at the end of this fifteen-minute run there would be Bear Claw Café with coffee and hopefully a hot pastry to refill my energy before I turned around and went home.
There was always an ulterior motive as far as running was concerned.
If there wasn’t, you weren’t running right.
As I left the neighborhood, I glanced in the direction of the mountains where Kate was getting married in a couple of days. They were snow-capped, and judging by the thick, gray clouds that were moving in to hug them, that wasn’t going to change anytime soon.
That made me smile.
Kate had wanted snow, and snow she was going to get. I’d booked out the entire ski resort, and she wouldn’t have to go far up the mountain to get her wish.
I turned into town and passed the entrance to Peak Place. A smile ghosted over my lips at the memories that hit me; the parties that we, as idiot teens, had thought our parents didn’t know about; sneaking out for dates and finding a secluded spot; sitting and talking with Holley until the sun went down and the moon came up and we’d both broken our curfew.
Shit.
I’d had so many chances back then to tell her how I’d felt.
What would my life be like now if I had?
Would I have lost my best friend anyway?
I shook those thoughts away and slowed until I was walking. The café was just up ahead, and I wiped my forehead with my sleeve to get rid of the sweat that had beaded there.