Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 164459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
I drew in a cloud of breath, sitting back against the bench. He was right, but for some reason I felt the need to stand, to face him after what went down last night. But I didn’t. I stayed down.
Drake cocked his head at Otto and Otto rolled his eyes with reluctance. “I hate this shit,” he muttered, hopping off the bench and going in their direction. He picked up the tray of teas as Oscar whispered something to him.
Drake watched the two of them walk into the room, shutting the door behind them, and then he looked at me. With one of his bushy brows cocked, he placed his tray of donuts and chocolate drizzled croissants down and asked, “You supposed to be in there?”
“Yep,” I sighed.
“So why aren’t you?”
“Not in the mood.”
He looked confused. “Free food. Books. Tea… isn’t that your thing?”
“Not when it involves my parents... or my mother, rather.” I waved a hand, hating that she even came up during the conversation.
“I thought that was her in there,” he said, pretty much to himself because he wasn’t looking at me anymore. He was facing the door. Then, in practically no time, he marched ahead, picking up his pastry tray. “Give me a minute.”
I nodded, and Drake pulled open the door to the banquet room, slipping inside without much notice. The door clicked shut behind him, and it took nearly ten of his said “minutes” before all three boys came back out.
Otto was fighting a laugh, Oscar was rolling his eyes at his brother, and Drake’s face was just… blank. Like always.
“How the fuck do you do it?!” Otto finally let out his outburst, hurrying in my direction. “They are so fucking uptight. I wouldn’t even be able finger those snazzy bitches in there.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at that one. “You see why I’m not in there now?”
“Crazy.” Otto shook his head and then looked towards his twin.
Oscar was focused on me. “How’s your friend Kylie? Is she okay after last night?” he asked.
I shrugged. “She’ll probably be hung over when she wakes up, but she’ll survive.”
“Oh. Okay. Good.” Oscar’s line of vision darted down to his brother and he bobbed his head once, a gesture for Otto to follow him.
“Later, Pretty Jenny.” Otto smirked at Drake, forcing a scowl out of him.
“Later, Otto.”
Otto followed his brother back down the corridor and I watched them enter the kitchen. Oscar gave Drake a swift glance before finally disappearing.
“Oscar seems very protective of you,” I said when they were gone.
“Not that,” Drake sighed. “He’s just never seen me actually… interact like this.”
“Let me guess. With a female?” I folded my arms.
A smile played on his lips. “Something like that.” Taking a few steps ahead, he folded his arms and peered down at me. His head tilted, and his lips pinched tight. “Do me a favor,” he said.
“What?”
“Don’t drink so much. I can tell it’s not something you do on the regular. You were only hurting yourself.”
“I didn’t drink so much for no reason. I was trying to forget about your rudeness. Why did you leave like that last night, anyway? All I wanted was your number. Is that too much to ask for?”
“Actually, it is.”
I frowned, and it hurt my head a little. “Why?”
“Because you don’t need my number. You don’t need to get to know me, Jenny.” I liked how he said my name. It wasn’t a soft voice like the one he had in fifth grade. Now it held a deep timbre, one that hummed throughout my body.
“I think that’s my choice, not yours. I already told you I don’t mind getting to know you.”
He blew a breath, his jaw ticking. He focused on me for quite some time before finally easing up and sitting down beside me. His elbows rested on his thighs, and he folded his fingers, entwining each one until his hands were clasped tight.
His gaze was ahead, pointed at an abstract painting, as he asked, “Why are you trying so hard to get to know me?”
“Because I’m interested.”
He looked me in the eye. “In what?”
“In… you… I guess. I don’t know.” I twisted my lips.
“What is it about me? Why can’t you interest yourself in other boys, like the rich fucks you went to school with?”
I noticed how he tried to distance himself, act like he never attended Lake Lane, like he had nothing to do with the school or his former peers.
“I don’t like any of them.”
A smile graced his lips. He tried to fight it. “But you like me?”
“I think you’re a good guy.” I sat forward. “I remember the boy I used to swing with, and I wonder how he’s doing now, is all.” My hand went on top of his entwined fingers. His eyes moved as my hand did, jaw locking again.