Read Online Richmond-Banks Brothers 1: A Hopeless Place (BWWM Interracial Romance) by Coco Jordan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Coco Jordan
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asked.
“Not exactly,” I said. “Again, Amara, it really doesn’t matter.”
We left the hospital in her little red car with the rusting bumper and the loud exhaust.
“I’m going to stop at a drive-thru and get us breakfast. I don’t feel like cooking today,” she announced as she pulled into a fast food joint.
“We just ate fast food earlier this week,” I objected.
“Where I’m from, we eat it at least once a week,” she said, not budging. “Your body will adapt. It’s not going to kill you this once. Actually, I’m going to order you the fluffiest, fattiest, greasiest sausage, egg and cheese biscuit you’ve ever had in your entire life. I’m not done plumping you up yet.”
I groaned at the thought, clutching my stomach, which then began to rumble. I hadn’t eaten since dinner the night before.
“And you’re going to choke down some greasy, salty hash browns and wash it all down with a gigantic, sugary Coke.”
“I can feel my arteries clogging already,” I replied, cracking a brief smile.
“I just thought of something,” Amara said. “You’ve gained, what, ten pounds or so in the last couple weeks?”
“Probably.”
“And you’re getting stronger and stronger, more independent,” she continued.
“Okay, and your point?”
“We’re on the right track, Bennett.” She beamed. “I’m officially a genius. Let’s get you stronger and more active. You probably won’t even need me, by the time I’m done with you.”
She pulled into the drive-thru and ordered our meals, though this time with a bit more excitement in her tone.
“You’re in a better mood now,” I said as we pulled ahead. “I take it you’re not mad at me anymore?”
“Oh, I still think you acted like a crazy person,” she said. “But I forgive you. Just promise me now on that you’ll be completely honest with me, and the scheming will stop.”
She paid for our meals and we pulled away, the scent of greasy food-filled paper bags filling the tepid air. It was officially March, and we were a couple weeks away from spring. Amara reached into the bag and began doling out our breakfast items. I shoved greasy hash browns into my mouth, one after another, my hunger convincing me they were absolutely divine.
“Eat it all,” Amara said, watching me. “I think I’m onto something.”
“This is so disgusting, but so good at the same time,” I said with my mouth full.
We arrived at the mansion a few minutes later, only to see my mother standing on the front steps with her arms crossed, and as soon as Amara parked her car, she ran up and opened the passenger door.
“My baby,” she cooed as she feigned sympathy. “I was so worried. We went to the hospital to get you and the nurse said you just left with Amara. Amara, I wish you’d communicated with us that you were picking him up.”
“My apologies,” Amara said. “I should’ve called.”
“What did you eat? What is this garbage?” my mother asked as she stared at the fat food evidence on the floor of my car. “Amara, is this what you fed him for breakfast?”
Fed me? What, was I, an animal? A baby?
Sterling appeared from behind Ingrid and walked down toward the car, attempting to help Bennett out.
“I don’t need any help,” I insisted.
“Don’t be ridiculous, son,” my father insisted. “Give me your hand.”
Amara stood, helplessly watching and likely afraid to speak up as my parents argued over who should help me.
“Get away from me,” I spewed to them, swatting them away.
The three of them watched as I steadied myself with my left arm and grabbed the door with my right. I slipped my right leg out and followed with my left. I braced myself on the door and stood up.
“See?” I said with a know-it-all smirk.
“He’s been getting stronger,” Amara chimed in. “I’ve pretty much been forcing him to eat more, and he’s getting a little bigger and a little stronger each day.”
“I’ve been practicing,” I
“Not exactly,” I said. “Again, Amara, it really doesn’t matter.”
We left the hospital in her little red car with the rusting bumper and the loud exhaust.
“I’m going to stop at a drive-thru and get us breakfast. I don’t feel like cooking today,” she announced as she pulled into a fast food joint.
“We just ate fast food earlier this week,” I objected.
“Where I’m from, we eat it at least once a week,” she said, not budging. “Your body will adapt. It’s not going to kill you this once. Actually, I’m going to order you the fluffiest, fattiest, greasiest sausage, egg and cheese biscuit you’ve ever had in your entire life. I’m not done plumping you up yet.”
I groaned at the thought, clutching my stomach, which then began to rumble. I hadn’t eaten since dinner the night before.
“And you’re going to choke down some greasy, salty hash browns and wash it all down with a gigantic, sugary Coke.”
“I can feel my arteries clogging already,” I replied, cracking a brief smile.
“I just thought of something,” Amara said. “You’ve gained, what, ten pounds or so in the last couple weeks?”
“Probably.”
“And you’re getting stronger and stronger, more independent,” she continued.
“Okay, and your point?”
“We’re on the right track, Bennett.” She beamed. “I’m officially a genius. Let’s get you stronger and more active. You probably won’t even need me, by the time I’m done with you.”
She pulled into the drive-thru and ordered our meals, though this time with a bit more excitement in her tone.
“You’re in a better mood now,” I said as we pulled ahead. “I take it you’re not mad at me anymore?”
“Oh, I still think you acted like a crazy person,” she said. “But I forgive you. Just promise me now on that you’ll be completely honest with me, and the scheming will stop.”
She paid for our meals and we pulled away, the scent of greasy food-filled paper bags filling the tepid air. It was officially March, and we were a couple weeks away from spring. Amara reached into the bag and began doling out our breakfast items. I shoved greasy hash browns into my mouth, one after another, my hunger convincing me they were absolutely divine.
“Eat it all,” Amara said, watching me. “I think I’m onto something.”
“This is so disgusting, but so good at the same time,” I said with my mouth full.
We arrived at the mansion a few minutes later, only to see my mother standing on the front steps with her arms crossed, and as soon as Amara parked her car, she ran up and opened the passenger door.
“My baby,” she cooed as she feigned sympathy. “I was so worried. We went to the hospital to get you and the nurse said you just left with Amara. Amara, I wish you’d communicated with us that you were picking him up.”
“My apologies,” Amara said. “I should’ve called.”
“What did you eat? What is this garbage?” my mother asked as she stared at the fat food evidence on the floor of my car. “Amara, is this what you fed him for breakfast?”
Fed me? What, was I, an animal? A baby?
Sterling appeared from behind Ingrid and walked down toward the car, attempting to help Bennett out.
“I don’t need any help,” I insisted.
“Don’t be ridiculous, son,” my father insisted. “Give me your hand.”
Amara stood, helplessly watching and likely afraid to speak up as my parents argued over who should help me.
“Get away from me,” I spewed to them, swatting them away.
The three of them watched as I steadied myself with my left arm and grabbed the door with my right. I slipped my right leg out and followed with my left. I braced myself on the door and stood up.
“See?” I said with a know-it-all smirk.
“He’s been getting stronger,” Amara chimed in. “I’ve pretty much been forcing him to eat more, and he’s getting a little bigger and a little stronger each day.”
“I’ve been practicing,” I
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