Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 85453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Chapter 8
Cash
“What the fuck are you reading?” Kamil snatches an original copy of Flowers in the Attic out of my hand before slumping into the chair next to me. “This is that incest book, right?” He flicks through it like he can read a million words a minute. “They cut out so much of the good stuff for the movie.”
“There’s a movie?”
My hopes are dashed when he replies, “Yeah, but if you’re reading this for an assessment, you should stick with the book.” His brows furrow before he says, “Unless you watch the original movie. It stuck pretty close to the storyline.” He tosses my book back to me. “Why are you reading this anyway? I thought you said Einstein wasn’t from that part of the South?”
I grin when he uses McKayla’s nickname. She hates it, but I think it suits her perfectly.
You can be perfect without craving perfection.
“She’s not.” I huff out a big breath before sinking low into my chair. “I lost a bet.”
“You participated in a bet?” When I jerk up my chin, Kamil drags his head to the left before veering it to the right. “Where the fuck is Milo I-don’t-gamble Mancini? He doesn’t even play truth or dare.”
“Because the dares are lame, and everyone who plays truth or dare fucking lies. Yourself included.”
“Me?” He fans his hand across his thrusting chest. “Never.”
He’s still chuckling when I spot McKayla exiting the building I’ve been camped out the front of for the past twenty minutes.
When Kamil spots the head gesture I use to summon McKayla to my side, he mutters, “Your bet was with her, wasn’t it?”
I stray my eyes to his. They’re dull with confusion. “Yeah, why?”
“No reason.” He holds his hands out in front of himself before slowly backing away. “I was just curious.” Once he is far enough away for me not to inflict any harm, he asks, “Are you bringing her to the game?” He rolls his eyes at my confused expression. “The poker tournament you organize every year. Don’t tell me your forgot.”
“I didn’t forget. I just…” When McKayla cozies up to my side, her ruse improving for each day we undertake, I use her as an excuse for my daftness of late. “I just hadn’t had the chance to check McKayla’s schedule yet.”
She peers up at me blinking and baffled, but she plays the fake girlfriend ruse to perfection. “It’s my fault. I had to shuffle things around to fit in an extra English tutor session.” I inwardly gag at her reminder I bet more than I could afford to lose while she adds, “What are you trying to squeeze in?”
Kamil answers on my behalf. “Poker tournament at the end of the month.”
My interests are as piqued as McKayla’s when she asks, “How much is the buy-in?”
“We don’t have one.” Kamil nudges his head to me. “Sir anti-gambler says a winner’s trophy should be enough.”
I unconsciously draw McKayla in tighter when she exclaims with excitement, “There’s a trophy?”
After laughing about her clear excitement, Kamil says, “So I take it I’ll be saving you a spot?”
“We’ll be there.” McKayla swallows her eagerness before lifting her eyes to mine. “If that’s okay?”
I twist my lips before nodding. It’s my event, so the least I can do is show up.
Regret slams into me hard and fast when a second after Kamil leaves, my niceness bites me on the ass. “We should study now to make up for the two-hour session we will miss for the tournament.”
“I’m not studying now.”
“Why not?” I roll my eyes when she waves goodbye to Gabriel, who is watching us from the stairs of the building she just exited, but my annoyance doesn’t linger for long. McKayla barely flaps her fingers two times since she’s too interested in negotiating with me. “You need to ace your next test, Cash. Without a passing grade, you’ll—”
“Be benched,” I interrupt, my words low. “But I don’t have my books with me. I—”
“Trained for three hours. I know.”
When I peer down at her with a leering expression spread across my face, she rolls her eyes this time before pulling away from me. “I don’t keep tabs on your schedule.” Her next words are only meant for her ears, but I still hear them. “Unlike half the cheerleading team.”
I race to catch up with her, my pace slow since my legs feel the weight of lead. “I didn’t think cheerleaders would be into drama…” Except that one time.
I’m pulled from the thoughts that will see me get sinbinned when McKayla replies, “I didn’t hear it from them.”
“Then…” I leave my question open, more than aware she has the brain to answer any I have.
“Gabriel mentioned you usually have a flurry of cheerleaders in tow at any training session.” I don’t know whether to grit my teeth about her underhanded confession that she’s been schmoozing with Gabe behind my back or grin at the jealousy in her tone. I go for the latter when she adds, “Which is odd considering when I went to your practice, we were the only two people there.” She couldn’t sound more peeved if she tried.