Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Alis.
My Wonderland.
He leans in, brushing his lips along the shell of my ear. “You okay?”
Turning slightly, greedily seeking his nearness, I whisper back, “Am now.”
All too soon, Alis pulls away, severing our connection. It’s times like these that it’s hard for me to hold back. He’s mine, and sometimes I want to shout it to the world. But having him in secret is better than not having him at all.
After a filling meal, we all retreat back to the suite we’re sharing with Carrie. Dad and Quinn cuddle up on the couch together, much like I wish Alis and me could. I settle for sitting on the floor in front of the love seat he’s sprawled out on so I can be close. Carrie frowns from one of the armchairs, seemingly dazed.
Things are still strained with us.
She slept with my best friend. Ex-best friend. And it’s not even like they’re a couple. It’d been different if she actually loved Damon or he loved her. I might have forgiven him for it. It wasn’t like that, though. It was just a way for him to get his dick wet, uncaring of the consequences that forever ruined our friendship. I mean, she’s sixteen, for fuck’s sake. He’s eighteen. I still want to kill him for it to this day.
“Colin texted me again,” Alis grumbles.
I twist my body to scowl at him. “What’d he say this time?”
Colin Wheaton has been a thorn in our sides for three months straight. He didn’t just go away, but he also didn’t do anything to force our hand with the lawyers. It’s like…he actually wants to be in Alis’s life.
“Wants me to visit him in St. Louis. Sightsee or see a Cardinals game or some crap.” He lets out an annoyed huff. “Of course, I’m not going, and I told him as much.”
Quinn sighs. “Maybe—”
“No,” I bark out. “Did you forget the fact that he fucking killed someone on your porch?”
I’ll be goddamned if I let Alis go anywhere near that psychopath. Dad shoots me a stern look, but I ignore it. I know both he and Quinn question my newfound overprotectiveness over Alis, yet they never mention it. I’m not exactly ready to explain it because they’re not going to like the answer.
I love Alis.
I loved Naomi because she’s easy to love, but this feels different. Like there’s more substance and depth to it. Alis gets me like no one else can. When we’re alone, lost in our own little world, my guard drops, and I can just be.
Canyon.
Not an emotionally brittle high school senior who’s had to deal with the shattering of his family and the loss of his best friends.
Just Canyon.
Happy. Relaxed. Hopeful.
When I’m with Alis, I’m solely his. He protects me in his own way. Shields me from my dark, inner thoughts when I get pissed about Dad and distracts me. It’s so intense when we’re both naked and panting desperately. Each second I’m inside him feels like an eternity of bliss.
I love Alis Sommers, and he loves me too.
Even if neither of us has actually said the words. I can feel them with every weighted, heated look he sends me. With how he holds me after we have sex, clinging to me like I might vanish at any second. His smiles are wide for me, and his mahogany eyes grow warm anytime our gazes connect.
“I’m going to bed,” Carrie mutters as she climbs out of the chair. “I don’t feel so well.”
She disappears into the room that’s besides mine. My room in this suite houses my stuff, but I spent it in Alis’s bed last night. Tonight I’ll do the same. Just like at home, we’re glued together in his bed until daylight forces us apart.
“I wish you’d block him,” I grumble, my mind drifting back to Colin.
“It won’t do much,” Alis reminds me. “He just texts me from a different number. At least when we text, he doesn’t try to show up anymore.”
We grow quiet, but then the haunting, sad notes of Carrie’s violin travel through the walls of her room and into the living room. She’s been doing a lot of that lately—practicing feverishly and at all hours. Sometimes, Alis will critique for her, and other times he only has praise.
“She’s really good,” Quinn says to Ryan, squeezing his hand.
“Mrs. Weston is giving her a spring concert solo,” Alis reveals with a proud smile. “It’s a hard piece, and she’ll have to work her ass off for it, but I know she can do it.”
Alis’s smile brightens not just the room but every dark crevice in my heart. The thudding inside my chest is relentless and never-ending whenever he’s near. Absently, I reach for his hand, needing to touch him. His smile falters, and he holds up a fist for me to bump it.