Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“Are you fucking kidding me? Please tell me you’ve experienced some kind of head trauma or something.”
“It’s possible.”
“Cut the shit.”
I still don’t face him. I’m not sure if I can, but then I remind myself we’re playing a game. I’m not going to make it that easy for him.
“Calm your tits, King.” I turn around and lock eyes with him. “I haven’t even had my morning coffee yet.”
“This shit ain’t worth it,” he mumbles before walking away. Good. Point for the away team.
After taking a shower and feeling slightly human again, I dress in my favorite pair of blue and green leggings and pair it with a red tank. I throw my wet hair up in a messy bun, grab my book, and curl up in bed for an official lazy Saturday.
Just when the Crown Prince meets Cinder, his Cinderella, I hear commotion in the hallway. I sit up, trying to listen for what the hell it is, and when I hear a woman moan, outside my door, my worst nightmare comes alive.
The click of his bedroom door is followed by a loud crash against the wall. More moaning. More banging against the wall. More noise.
Is he serious right now? He brought some chick back to the house in the middle of the afternoon?
Fucking bastard.
I shake my head, refusing to let it bother me. I put my nose back into my book, re-reading the last paragraph.
“Oh, Travis...yeah baby...” Yeah, baby? How original. She continues moaning and screaming his name while rocking the fucking walls.
I clench my jaw, knowing exactly what he’s trying to do. He’s spent the last decade getting under my skin. But no matter how much I hate him, there’s an undeniable chemical connection. Even if I acted on it, the way he shattered me and everything I believed in, will never be enough to fix all the years of torture and mutual hatred for one another.
Being the mature twenty-two year old that I am, I hook my iPhone up to Drew’s stereo system and blast the soundtrack to Mary Poppins through it. If that doesn’t make a hard on disappear, I’m not sure what will. However, he did say to turn music on to avoid hearing his sexcapades. So technically, I'm only following his directions.
I turn it up as loud as it’ll go, drowning out the noise of them next door.
The music works and soon I’m able to get back to my book where the Prince is surprised to find out Cinder is the best mechanic in the land. Figures. Laying back against my pillows, I nearly jump out of my skin when Travis blasts through my door, completely naked, and hard. He doesn’t look at me as he grabs my phone and begins messing with it.
“What the hell are you doing?” I yell over the bass of Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. “Get out!”
He ignores me, holding the phone above my head as he figures out how to shut the music off.
“I’ll just turn it back on,” I snip.
“Not if you don’t have it.” He turns and walks toward my door.
“Give it back,” I demand.
“No.” He walks out into the hallway and back into his room. I follow but am too late when he locks me out. Wait...is he fucking her up against the wall because his bed still has no sheets? Or to secretly taunt me?
Probably both.
But Travis has underestimated me once again. If he wants to break all the house rules and wall-bang a girl, fine.
Going into the kitchen, I grab a chair on my way and carry it with me. I grab a lighter from the junk drawer, a paper towel, and stand on top of the chair, directly under the smoke detector. They’re all connected and wired together throughout the whole house. If one goes off, they all go off.
I smile as I light the towel and wait for a small blaze, just enough to get it to smoke when I blow it out. I put it under the detector and wait for it to finally alarm.
As soon as it does, I jump off the chair and toss the towel in the sink. I hear footsteps coming down the hall and the girl is screaming at him to ‘turn that noise off’.
“Viola!” he yells, clearly pissed.
I sneak out of the kitchen and into the mudroom where he can’t see me.
“Goddammit, Viola.” I hear him mutter before the alarm stops. “Sorry babe. You should go.”
Yes, she fucking should.
A few minutes later, I hear the front door click shut, and I breathe out in relief. Except a new feeling overcomes me: fear. Travis is beyond pissed this time.
“Where the fuck are you?” he shouts.
I don’t answer.
“So, what? You can run off my date but can’t show your face?”
He’s right. I’m being a coward.
If I’m going to get even with him, I want to be able to see the look in his eyes.