Read Online Nothing More by Anna Todd - Free Book Online Page B

happy, always so funny, and she snorted when she laughed. Uncle Keith, who I automatically thought was awesome because he was a cop, always gave me hockey trading cards when I saw him. I remember wishing he had been my dad a few times. Pitiful, yes, but sometimes I just wanted another guy around. To this day, I remember when he died, and the gut-wrenching screams of my aunt resounding through the hallways, and then the way my mom’s face was so pale and her hands so shaky when she told me, “Everything is fine, go back to bed, sweetheart.”
    Keith’s death turned everyone upside down, especially Reese. She nearly got her home foreclosed on because she was just that sad. She no longer had any interest in life, let alone pulling out a checkbook to write a check from an account full of blood money her husband’s life insurance had deposited there. She wasn’t cleaning, cooking, or dressing herself; she always took care of her children, though. The toddlers were bathed and groomed, their little round bellies proof that she put her children above anyone else. Rumor has it that my aunt gave all the money from Keith’s death to his oldest daughter from a previous marriage. I never met her, so I couldn’t tell you if it’s true or not.
    Reese and my mom were close their entire lives, being only two years apart in age. While Aunt Reese has only visited Washington once, they talk on the phone a lot. My grandma’s death didn’t seem to affect Reese the same way it did my mom. My mom dealt with it with a gentle approach and a lot of baking. Still, it was hard on her, and this table that I just scratched is about the only thing she has left.
    Bad son, I am—
    â€œHello?” Tessa calls from the kitchen, interrupting the picture of little Yodas swimming around in my head.
    I bend down to remove my shoes and spare the spotless, old wood floors. Tessa spent all of last week polishing them, and I learned quickly not to wear my shoes inside for a while. For every footprint, I swear she spent twenty minutes on the floor with the little polisher tool in her hand.
    Given all the crap on New York’s streets, probably best to just always do that anyway, I guess—
    â€œHello?” Tessa repeats, her voice closer now.
    When I look up, she’s standing a few feet from me.
    â€œYou scared me,” she says, her eyes meeting mine. She’s been so nervous since someone broke into an apartment on the first floor a couple months back. She doesn’t say it much, but I can tell by her anxious glance to the door every time there’s a creak in the hallway.
    Tessa’s wearing a WCU T-shirt and her black leggings are covered in what appears to be flour.
    â€œSorry. You okay?” I ask. The dark hollows under her eyes are evidence that she’s not.
    â€œYeah, of course.” She smiles, shifting her feet. “I’m baking, and how can anything be wrong when you’re doing that?” Her words turns into a wry laugh. “Nora’s here, too, in the kitchen,” she adds.
    My brain skips past the latter part for now. “My mom would be proud.” I smile at her and toss my jacket on the arm of the chair.
    Tessa eyes it, but decides to let this slide. Aside from the cleaning, she’s a great roommate. She gives me my time and space in the apartment, and when she is here, I like her company. She’s my best friend and she’s not in the best place right now.
    â€œYes!” I hear Nora yell.
    Tessa rolls her eyes and I shoot her a questioning look, to which she just she nods her head toward the kitchen.
    â€œThank God,” she says sarcastically as I follow her into the kitchen.
    The sweet scent grows stronger with each step. Tessa walks straight to the small cart we call an island. At least ten baking pans are stacked on top of one another on the small space.
    Tessa lets me in on their reason for celebration. “She must have gotten this