Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 103104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Sex with her was just water to me—tasteless, meaningless, nothing but passing the time. I’m not even sure she really wanted me, but she made all the right noises and pretended, eager to be one of my girls under the bleachers. She didn’t give a shit about who I was, but you can bet she told everyone she had the quarterback. Funny—I never tell anyone who I fuck, but people always know.
Liam rolls his shoulders. “You’ve been acting weird lately, Knox. Worried about winning a state championship already?” He gives me a once-over. “Don’t worry, I’ll win those games for us. You just throw some pretty passes and I’ll do all the hard work.”
“Fuck off,” I say softly.
Then, I smile.
He gives me a double take then darts his eyes away. Distaste is evident on his face. Four years with this scar on my face and he still can’t stomach it.
Dane grows still next to me and gives me side-eye, which I refuse to acknowledge. Liam is his best friend, and like the good twin he is, we’re in sync; he knows when I want to use my fists.
“Come on, let’s go in,” Dane murmurs, his shoulder jostling mine.
“Mmmm, maybe Liam and I need to hash out some shit before we walk in,” I say lightly.
Liam swings his head back to me, meeting my eyes and turning his unease into a careful smile. “Ah, man, forget it. It’s gonna be a good year, alright? Our team’s going to win that trophy this year. You and me, right, Knox? We’re tight. We’ve been tight since freshman year.”
It’s me and Dane who are tight, asshole. Never you. “Yeah,” I say.
The four of us step onto the long sidewalk that leads to the entrance. Liam opens the door, and I head in first, carefully searching the faces in the foyer then the hallway.
Nothing.
She isn’t here yet.
Wait.
A blonde girl catches my eye down the hall, her face hidden and ducked. My steps falter, pausing as I trail behind the other three guys. I’m about to head toward her—
I touch my scar, rubbing it.
Nope. Nope.
Don’t follow her, Knox. Let it go. Right.
A familiar dark green Jeep flashes in my peripheral as it whips into the lot and speeds past the sidewalk. I frown, my gut tensing up. Ava. So the blonde wasn’t her. A tight feeling settles in my chest, and unease mingled with excitement washes over me as I watch her park and get out of her car. I bite my lower lip, my body tightening.
With what?
Tension? Fear? Lust?
Yeah, I’m a regular split personality.
Part of me never wants to see her face again, but the other side of me…well, that’s the one I have to worry about.
Liam rushes off to the headmaster’s office to get his schedule figured out while Dane, Chance, and I linger close to the door, checking out the incoming freshmen and waiting for the friends we haven’t seen over the summer.
But I know why I’m really standing here.
Dane leans his head against the wall and scrubs his face.
“What’s up with you?” I ask, one eye on the door, watching.
He raises his head. “Nothing. Stop hovering.” Gray eyes the same color as mine give me a look. His pupils are dilated.
My jaw grinds, but I keep my lips zipped. The more I ride him, the more belligerent he gets, and you can’t argue with—
Shit.
There she is.
It’s been months since she graced the hallowed halls of Camden with her long, lean legs and big aquamarine eyes.
A suffocating feeling grows in my chest.
She.
Is.
Here.
My thoughts jumble back to the past. I still remember the day she showed up freshman year, that look of hope on her face, full of optimism that Camden was going to be a new beginning for her. She made me look at her, and I hated it. Even now, I itch to peel the sensation right off my skin.
No feelings allowed in this body for her.
Not a single one.
“She’s back,” Dane says, straightening up from the wall, an enigmatic expression on his face. “Gotta give it to her—she’s got balls.”
“Mmmm,” I say, studying her while she isn’t looking. Gone is the long blonde hair, replaced with jet black. She looks harder. Her mouth is frozen in a smirk with bright red, glittery lipstick on her full lips, accentuating the sensual curves there, the paleness of her skin. Small freckles dot over her nose, same as before, but it’s the tense set of her jaw that tells you she’s not the same. Her skirt is a hair too short by the school guidelines, the hem hitting about three inches above her knee instead of the required two. I wonder if scholarship students get the last pick when it comes to uniforms. I guess their clothes are free, like the textbooks. Do they give her just a couple of sets of each one? Two jackets, a few shirts and skirts? I can’t even count the number of uniforms in my closet at home, so many khakis, perfectly starched white shirts, and a myriad of ties.