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)
“One, no one says thing anymore.” I gather the dress off the floor then join her near the closet she won’t find anything suitable in. “And two, she wouldn’t care if we were a couple or not. If there were an opportunity, she’d take it.” When confusion is the only thing on McKayla’s face, I push out with a groan, “I’m expected to cheat.”
Her bewilderment grows. “What?”
“Jocks. The popular guy. Even drama geeks. They’re expected to cheat.” Using her confusion to my advantage, I tug off her hideous baggy t-shirt without sneaking a single peek of her curves, then replace it with the dress. She may have fought me harder if her bra didn’t represent a crop top. It isn’t giving up any of her goods. “Tell me one teen flick, college romance book, or article in Teen Vogue you’ve read that doesn’t represent the cheater as the popular guy or the jock?” I pull her hair out from under the collar of the slinky black dress before asking, “Can’t think of one, can you?”
Too honest for her own good, she shakes her head.
“That’s because the nice guy is meant to win. He’s supposed to get the girl, the career, and the millions and not once think about another woman.” After wordlessly suggesting she remove the linen pants puffing out her new dress, I spin around so she can. “No one ever portrays the woman as a douche, even in the books where the nice guy gets squashed.”
I’m being too honest too early, but McKayla doesn’t seem to mind. “That’s because when a woman cheats, it is too late. The relationship is already over.” When I pivot back around to face her, she kicks her linen pants to the side before moving for a vanity drawer and mirror squashed between two single beds. “When a man cheats, it is about sex and getting off.” She frees her mousy brown locks from the half-up style before scrunching the ends to give the waves more oomph. “But when a woman cheats, it is based on emotions and love. She isn’t being spiteful. She is just no longer in love with the person she thought she loved. Her heart moved on before her brain.”
“That doesn’t excuse cheating.”
McKayla twists to face me. “I’m not saying it does. If you’re no longer in love, leave before seeking something new. I’m merely explaining why men are portrayed as cheaters more often. Because they don’t search for someone else for love. They have that at home. They stray because they know the woman they love will never betray them the same way because they’re too narcissistic to believe they could love anyone more than they love them.”
“Professor Ren said you’re studying to become a vet.”
Her smile completely changes the dynamic of her face. It is still makeup-free, but her smile makes it flawless. “I am. But when you’re homeschooled, social studies is an entirely different ball game.”
She waits for my laughter to die down before waving her hand down the front of her body. “What do you think?” I’m about to tell her she’ll have the pick of the bunch, but she continues talking, which reminds me of my objectives. “Do you think Gabriel will remember me now?”
Chapter 4
McKayla
Nerves take flight in my stomach when Milo leads me up a cracked footpath of a well-known fraternity house. I’ve experienced parties like this, but they were usually at ranches with massive lakes, raging fires, and enough cow dung to turn any girl off from wearing their fancy shoes.
They were never like this.
This is a true sorority slash frat party. Speakers boom out the latest hits, half-naked men wrestle next to the front porch, and cheerleaders who still look like cheerleaders even without their cheerleading clothes cheer them from the sidelines.
It is a drunken free-for-all, and I’m way out of my element.
“I don’t think this is a good idea.”
I barely get one step away when Milo curls his arm around my shoulders, spins me around, then glues me to his side. “Every party looks worse from the outside.”
The top of my head only reaches his underarm. It should be a disturbing visual since he’s wearing a sleeveless shirt under his basketball jacket, but I’m more interested in working out why his smell seems familiar instead of the possible wetness of his underarm hairs.
The pleasant scent wafting around the PA room three days ago was from Gabriel, wasn’t it?
I don’t get time to deliberate. A second after entering the living room of the frat house, every pair of eyes is on us—including the ones that last glanced my way in panic.
Gabriel’s eyes shift from my face to Milo’s hand flattened possessively across my hip since his arms are so long they could fully wrap around my waist before he shoots them back to my face. He stares at me for several long seconds before he eventually dips his chin in greeting.