Damaged Goods (All Saints High #4) Read Online L.J. Shen

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, New Adult, Sports Tags Authors: Series: All Saints High Series by L.J. Shen
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Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 137433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
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I didn’t always hate football.

In fact, once upon a time, I even sort of liked it.

But then the competitiveness, expectations, and In Lev Cole I Trust bumper stickers became a thing, and it got out of control.

I now do it out of obligation. To my family. To my community. To my never-ending guilt trip.

Thalia grabs my turtle dove bracelet. Or whatever’s left of it. “When will you let me get you a new string? The dove’s gonna fall off any day now.”

I gently pull away. Having her fingers on it feels wrong. “I’ll get to it.”

“So. Grim. Found a reaper to mate with yet?” Thalia wiggles her brows, turning her attention to him. I chuckle, finishing half my burger in one bite.

“No, why? Do you know another gold-digging, social-climbing, semi-hot gymnast in need of a rich boyfriend?” His eyes mockingly light up. “All I ever wanted was someone to love me for my bank account.”

I kick Grim under the table. “Cut it out.”

Thalia blushes, throwing a kale chip at him, and he catches it in his hand without looking up from his plate, shoving it into his mouth. “Hmm. I just love the taste of nothing.”

Having enough of Grim’s bullshit, Thalia turns to me. “Are we still on for today, babes? Early dinner at yours?”

Grim’s gaze snaps up from his food, a taunting smile on his face. “Yeah, babes, are you still on?”

I’m going to break his pretty nose one day. My misery seems to be his favorite comedy genre.

I run a hand over my buzzed head. “Sorry, T. Bailey’s back in town. I gotta see her.”

Lay into her, more like it.

If she’s even here. I’m going off Austin’s word, which is slightly less trustworthy than that of a Nigerian prince-astronaut stranded in space with a fifteen-million-dollar fortune he wishes to share with complete strangers.

“Ohmigod, she is?” Thalia’s eyes twinkle with excitement. “Wait, is she okay?”

Alarm bells blast in my head. “Why wouldn’t she be?”

“It’s just…” Her shoulders hitch up. “I heard some stuff.”

“From Austin?” My brows furrow.

Thalia bites down on her lower lip. “No…from Lakshmi.”

The video’s been doing the rounds already. The whole school probably knows.

Good job, Bails. Ruining a nineteen-year flawless reputation on one drug binge.

Thalia smooths my shirt over my pecs. “Will you let me know how she’s doing?”

“Why?” I ask. They weren’t friends or anything.

“Because she wants to know what she’s competing with,” Grim coughs into his fist.

“Because I’ve always liked her.” Thalia glares at Grim with a scowl, shaking her head like he’s a lost cause.

“Sure,” I say, because it seems extra shitty both to bail on her ass and not keep her in the loop. Especially since I blew her off twice this week to work on a vintage car Dad bought.

“No. Let’s open this up. Why do you like the girl your fuck buddy is in love with, Thalia?” Grim pops a fry into his mouth, looking between us with a sinister grin. “Is that because she’s you but with a personality?”

“Speaking of personalities, you should use all that money to buy yourself a new one,” Thalia sasses back.

The barb doesn’t land. Grim doesn’t get angry. He doesn’t get even, either.

He normally just gets bored.

“Are you capable of saying something without sarcasm?” I grind out at him.

“Hope not. That might invite a real, meaningful conversation.” Grim shudders.

“Hey, do you want me to come with you? To see Bailey, I mean?” Thalia puts a hand on my shoulder.

“Yeah, Lev, do you?” Grim blinks expectedly.

Rather than throw a tortilla chip at him, I hurl the entire tray and everything on it.

He dodges quickly, and my food ends up splattering over Raul Ortega’s back. A varsity wrestler with a taste for shenanigans.

He turns around, death in his eyes.

“Fooooooooooood fight!”

CHAPTER 4

Lev

Miserable Fact #2,993: The Turritopsis dohrnii jellyfish is the one and only immortal creature in the world.

I floor it the entire drive home in my Bugatti Chiron Sport.

I love a good monster engine, which is why I am obsessed with planes, among other things.

We, the Followhills, Spencers, and Rexroths all live in the same cul-de-sac.

It’s the size of a golf course, but it’s still close enough that we always have our noses in each other’s business. Both a blessing and a curse.

I park my car, blocking Dad’s Maybach, and torpedo my way to Bailey’s doorstep. I don’t knock or ring the bell. We’re all practically family. Which is a gross-ass idea, considering the things I’ve been fantasizing about doing to my ex–best friend these past five years.

I punch in the code to their door and throw it open, kicking my Nike Blazers against the wall.

Mel’s voice greets me from the kitchen. “Lev, honey, you hungry?”

She must have seen me coming through the cameras on her phone app.

“Perpetually.” I stop in front of her with my good-boy smile.

She turns around and walks over to hug me, holding a spatula. She is making dynamite shrimp and zucchini fries. Bailey’s favorite.


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