Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Pulling him in tight with my arms around his midsection, I ignore the way his abs tense beneath his hoodie. I also ignore the fact that his cologne isn’t cologne at all, but simply a subtle note of soap, engine oil, and cigarettes. He smells like the kind of masculinity men lie about having. But that’s always been Niko. He’s never had to try hard to be anything. He simply owns everything he does and takes what he wants with an iron fist.
Alas, that’s why I’m where I am right now riding bitch on his bike.
He directs us out onto the road and I squeeze him tighter, my legs wrapping around his thighs and my mind running from a memory that I don’t want to rehash right now…
Then
Water slapped beneath the rocking boat as I kept my eyes up on the dark sky. Every now and then I thought I saw the sparkling of a star, but just when I focused my eyes—it was gone.
“Niko…” I whispered, not wanting to say a word to break the silence, but needing to ask him the question that had been floating in my mind since last week.
“Yeah?” His voice broke through his sleep.
I brought my fingertip to his chest, watching as it lowered and lifted with every breath he took. “How can we still be friends like this even after we had sex?”
He didn’t answer, and it wasn’t until I looked up at him that I caught his watching me. His eyes were darker, as if they’re fighting wars I knew nothing about.
“Because.”
I sighed around a soft giggle, rolling my eyes at his nonchalant tone. “Typical.”
“No, look.” He pinched my chin between two fingers, forcing my attention back to him. My stomach rolled when our eyes collided, and I knew right there.
Right then.
That it didn’t matter that we had toxic-ass sex. It wasn’t going to change anything at all because Niko and I lived on a balance that neither of us cared to define.
He squeezed a little. “Because you and me? We’re untouchable, and when I die…” He turned his head away, covering his heavy eyes with his forearm and dampening his lip with his tongue. It shouldn’t be sexy, and neither should the swell of veins in his neck, but it was. “Your ass will still be mine.”
Now
I believed him. Through all of the girlfriend stages, the ho phases, the let’s-pretend-I’m-not-looking-at-you-while-Stacey-has-her-tongue-down-my-throat phases, and all that teen angst he and I put each other through, I believed him.
Until he left.
Anger pulses through my veins the longer I’m on this bike. Usually, and I mean, very rarely when we were younger, riding on the back of his or Ari’s bike was therapeutic for me. I loved it. Needed it. The sound of hot pipes rumbling soothed my frantic thoughts faster than anything else ever did.
Yet here I am.
Mad.
Because everything he ever told me was a lie.
He pulls down a side street that’s off one of the back roads in town, and as soon as we hit the gravel, he slows. I know where he’s taking us, and I’m sure I know why, but none of that matters. The more time I spend this close to him, the more I realize how much I hate him.
I hate him more than I even knew.
I hate him because he left.
I hate him because he never came back.
I hate him for never telling me he loved me.
I hate him for every single thing that happened after he left, but more than anything, I hate the fact that I love him and that above all of that, it’s me who is going to hurt him.
As soon as he directs us in front of the small river hole, I jump off the bike and tear off the helmet, tossing it onto the grass. “Fuck you, Niko!”
He doesn’t flinch. It’s as though he has been waiting for the outburst. Keeping his eyes locked on the flowing water in front of him, switching off the ignition and pushing the keys into his pocket, he disregards me.
“You—you left me! Here! You knew what you were doing too, so don’t play fucking dumb!”
He finally snaps, turning to face me with eyes narrowed. Heat draws in around us both, swirling in the middle like a recipe for C-4. “Fuck off, Mer. You did this—that. I didn’t fucking force you onto his dick.”
I take the steps needed to get closer to him, my fists balling at my sides. “No? You didn’t? Hmm, see, the way I see it—”
He swings his leg off the bike and closes the distance that I no longer want to close. His proximity absorbs all of my oxygen until my throat swells and my mouth fills with saliva.
He towers over me like a fucking lord, but I dig my finger into his chest anyway because again—mad. “You left me. I had no choice.”