Page 37 of Unrivaled Love
A quick glance tells me Bryson isn't around so I stop at my car and grab the book. I settle in on the rocking chair on the front porch and read until my stomach grumbles again.
Should I just go to the store and buy more food? And a cooler? And a bag of ice?
Ugh, that feels like such a hassle.
There's got to be a sharp object around here somewhere.
Chapter 11
Bryson
Cabinet Cooler with the Save
I'mreadingonthesofa when Jo comes back inside through the front door. She darts down to the basement right away and a little part of me wishes she'd want to speak to me.
It's freaking quiet out here alone.
We don't have to be friends, but we could talk.
I'm distracted from my lady dragon book now that Jo is inside and honestly, the author introduced so many new characters and places in the world she created I'm having trouble following it all anyway.
I slide my bookmark into place and set the book on the coffee table.
"Ah ha!" Jo yells from the basement and I stand. She comes bounding up the stairs and I watch with amusement as she moves quickly through the maze to the fridge.
With a satisfied smile on her lips, she brings something up to her chest and starts spinning it between her fingers.
Does she have a rubix cube?
Then she falls to her knees and I lose sight of her because of the island. I move closer without entering the maze to watch what she’s doing. "Are you using nail clippers?" I ask, impressed with her inventiveness.
"Baby ones. Al must have left them in the bathroom down there." She says as she works.
She gets a slice open and then she tries to rip it but I've got too many layers so she keepsclipping away.
This is Jo at her finest. She might not agree but I see her determination, her dedication, and her drive in each miniscule pinch of her fingers. She's pure concentration as she rises and continues cutting. I can sense her excitement as she reaches the final few inches. She's standing taller. She's proud of herself.
I almost hate what's about to happen.
"Finally." She mutters as she rips away the last of the wrapping and tosses the clippers on the counter.
I hold back a giggle as she opens the fridge.
She’s going to be so miffed.
Her eyes scan the entire thing before she turns and narrows them at me.
“Where the fuck is my food, Bryson?” She growls.
I bite my tongue to keep my smile contained and only shrug.
With the grace of a panther she keeps her eyes on me and stalks through the yarn until she rises to her full height in front of me and we’re nose to nose.
“Where, thefuck, is my food?” She asks again, slowly, quietly. Chills race down my back.
“It’s not in the fridge?” I squeak out as I try to trap my laugh in my throat.
“Bryson, I swear to god, I will lose my shit if I don’t get something to eat in the next three minutes.”
