Chapter Two
Wyatt
“Denver, what are you doing? Move to the right! You’re gonna hit the wall,” Kingston yells at his brother while they try to move my dresser up the stairs of Brooklyn’s and my new house.
“Denver, we just painted. Your sister will have a conniption.” I follow behind them with a garment box in my hands.
“Couldn’t you have hired movers? Aren’t you like a millionaire or something? Why am I waking up at the ass c***k of dawn to move you into your huge farmhouse.”
“It’s not a farmhouse. They don’t have those in Alaska,” Kingston says.
Denver lowers the dresser just to give him the annoyed look.
“What?”
“Did you see the long front porch that faces the mountains?” Denver asks.
“Nothing else about it says farmhouse and they don’t have a farm so…”
“Can we please just move,
