Wild Tendy (IceCats Book 2) Read online

  I think I want this. It would be so much easier. I could find someone who gets me, like Amelia said. I could have the house and someone who would love me for my craziness. Shit, do I want a wife? I watch as Chandler kisses his son’s head and then his daughter’s. When Sadie, Chandler’s dog, climbs up with them, I feel like I might die from the cuteness. But then Chandler’s eyes meet Amelia’s, and this little smirk covers his lips. He looks as if he’s on the highest cloud in the sky. I’ve known him for a really long time, and only Amelia does that for him.

  One woman.

  One woman makes him that happy…

  Interesting.

  Chapter Two

  Aviva

  I blow at a piece of hair that has fallen out of my ponytail as I take the fresh bread out of the oven. I place the pan on a cooling rack before rushing to put in the next tray of bread. I’m dragging ass this morning. I woke up late since I was up late with Callie, being a good big sister by helping her with her project on Queen Elizabeth. One thing for sure, I wish I had the queen’s life. Instead, I’m the queen of a sub shop.

  I’m so winning at life.

  I rub my eyes as I set the timer, another yawn taking over as I start cutting up veggies after washing my hands. Usually Callie helps in the mornings, but with how late we stayed up and her having gymnastics today, I felt she needed the sleep. She works her ass off at school, here at the shop, and at the gym. She can sleep in while I suffer. That’s what a good big sister does. Or a stupid one.

  Ed Sheeran’s “I Don’t Care” blasts through the shop as I sing at the top of my lungs. It’s the only time I can listen to music from the current decade. When the shop opens, 90s is all that plays since we’re a 90s-themed sub shop. The shop is full of crazy bright colors. The booths are all retro greens and yellows. The walls are decorated with memorable images from the 90s. Rugrats, Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, New Kids on the Block, Friends… Anything that happened in the 90s adorns the shop. My mom used to be a tour manager before she opened the shop, so the walls are plastered with pictures of her and many 90s stars. It’s pretty badass, and while I love the 90s, sometimes I want to listen to some Five Seconds of Summer or Dan & Shay. Yes, the best music was made in the 90s, but there are some bangers now. Problem is, I refuse to change anything about this shop. It’s vintage, it’s my mom, and I won’t mess that up.

  Alec Benjamin starts singing his jam, “Let Me Down Slowly,” and I bob my head to the beat. This is Callie’s favorite song, and usually she sings it from her soul as she’s busy doing whatever needs doing in the shop. Our subs are the best here in South Carolina. Each sub is themed after something from the 90s. Our “How You Doin’” salami sub is our best seller. But then, our “Carlton” tuna is right up there. Really, everything sells well.

  Everyone in town comes to the shop, and we stay busy as hell, which is tough since it’s only Callie and me who work here. Thankfully our customers are pretty patient. They get distracted by the ambiance of the place, which gives us time to get subs out. Plus, our subs are damn good. Our secret vinaigrette is what brings all the people in. I was taught how to make it when I was seven. Back when things were the best. Now…now, things are a bit suspect.

  When I hear the shower running, I glance at the clock. Oh good, Callie woke up to her alarm. I really wanted to get all this done, and if I’d gone upstairs to wake her up, I might have gone back to bed. I don’t have time for that, though. It’s a Thursday, our biggest sub day because it’s Throwback Thursday. All subs are buy one, get one fifty percent off. It’s gonna be one of those days that I fall face first into my bed by eight. A yawn leaves my body at just the thought. Which reminds me to start the espresso machine.

  After I click it on, I get back to work as I wait for Callie to come down. I turn on the stove to make her a breakfast sub, something she has been urging me to sell, but the lunch and dinner rushes already kill me dead. I don’t think I could do a morning rush too. Especially with her not being here. She offered to homeschool so she could help me, but I refused before she could even finish her sentence. I was homeschooled through high school, and I missed out on everything. I don’t want that for her. I want more for her. I have to give her more.

  I finish her sub and put it on the warmer so it’s toasty when she comes down, which won’t be for another thirty minutes. The shower is still running. But to my surprise, as I’m thinly slicing the tomatoes, I hear her walking down the stairs. I glance back as she rushes to me in only her towel, her hair wet and panic on her face.

  “Aviva!”

  My heart jumps in speed as I quickly wipe my hands. “What? What’s wrong?”

  “Is this a lump?” Her voice is full of horror, and my heart stops in my chest. I meet her halfway across the kitchen as she drops her towel so her left breast is out. She developed early and had a full B cup at thirteen. She puts my fingers on the spot she was holding, and I dig my fingers into her breast. I lift her arm with my other hand and feel around, biting my lip as I try to calm down.

  When I’m satisfied, I shake my head. “No. You’re about to start, right?”

  “Yeah,” she says, gathering her towel, tears welling up in her eyes.

  “It’s just that. You’re fine.”

  Her shoulders drop in relief, and I admire my beautiful sister. She’s thin, thanks to the many hours she puts in at the gym next door. We share the same dark hair that curls naturally along our shoulders. Her deep green eyes are a bit darker than mine, but they have the same catlike shape to them. Her lips are a dark pink and very thick. While my bottom lip is thicker than the top, her lips are even and perfection. Her face is round, almost like a cherub. And just like a cherub, she’s a complete angel. My sweet, beautiful sister.

  “Aviva, I can’t keep doing this.”

  I turn back to the tomatoes as I nod. “Callie, the doctor said eighteen.”

  “That’s not fair! I have two ticking time bombs on my chest.”

  “I know, Cal. I know.”

  She is frustrated, as am I. Her breasts give her an anxiety that hurts my soul for her. “With our history, I think I should be able to do it now. We have the money for the implants. Why can’t we do it?”

  “Probably ’cause a sixteen-year-old doesn’t need implants,” I say, and she gives me a frantic look.

  “Then I’ll wait for those until I’m eighteen. But please, I need these things off me.”

  I meet her gaze. We’ve talked about this before, and she’s always wanted to wait so she could just have one surgery. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I hate them, and they freak me out.”

  “I know, but with gym—”

  “I’ll be down for a week at most.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek.

  Callie continues, “You did it, and you’re awesome.”

  Physically sure, but mentally, it’s up in the air. I nod. “I’ll make another appointment.”

  She wraps her arms around me, and I lean my head into hers. “Thank you.”

  “Of course. Now, go get ready so you aren’t late.”

  She nods before she turns and heads upstairs. Out of my control, tears well up in my eyes, and I collapse into the counter as a sob shakes me to my core. I draw in a deep breath, trying to calm down. But for the love of God, she terrifies me. Like she said, those breasts are two ticking time bombs on her chest, and they freak me out too. I know she thinks it’s a good idea to just get rid of them, but it worries me that she’s scared and wants this out. I did that; I was terrified and went that route. It was painful and fucked with me mentally, but I didn’t have a choice. Callie needed me. I really don’t want that for her, but what other option is there?

  Cancer takes who it wants.

  While I wanted to fall face first in my bed once I closed the shop, Callie had texted me that her coach wanted to see me. It was a rough day. We were busy as all hell, and meanwhile, my mind has been consumed with thoughts of Callie’s breasts. Not really a great thing to think about, b