Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 98992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
As much as I hate to fucking admit it, he’s nailing everything.
The playful touches, that indicate he’s into her but respects her space.
The flirtatious giggles she continuously gives that include tiny bites of her glossed bottom lip.
It’s a signal that she likes you.
Wants you.
Hopes you lean in and kiss her.
Take her.
Hold her under until she’s anxious to come up for air.
Those are signs that once had my name and only my name scribbled on them.
Fuck, they always should.
Who knows?
Maybe they always will.
Her date’s bass voice booms, rattling my bones despite the effort I put up against it, “Can we help you?”
Silencing my jealousy that is dying to cause a scene, I extend my open palm his direction. “Collins.”
He shakes with the hand not wrapped around her shoulder. “Kevin.”
“The ex,” I light-heartedly state at the same time my hand falls back to my side.
“The current,” he happily announces, thumb stroking the bare skin.
“I can um…,” my eyes struggle not to glare at the digit lovingly caressing her, “see that.”
Rather than deliver an assholish retort he merely smiles.
It’s polite.
Annoying.
Fuck, I hate him.
“Mind if I steal your date for a dance?”
Or forever.
I want forever.
I’m fucking planning in my head for forever, but right now?
One step at a time.
Pres slowly shakes her head. “I don’t think that's a good idea, Kev.”
Kev?
This fucker has a nickname like mine?!
“Don’t do any shit you don’t wanna do,” he warmly states. “But if it is somethin’ you wanna do, go ahead. I don’t mind.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he quickly replies on a small shrug. “It’s just one little dance. I trust you.”
But he shouldn’t fucking trust me.
“You sure you won’t be upset?” She anxiously asks, creating new knots in my stomach. “Or angry? Or-”
“Babe,” Kevin interjects with a light tap at her chest, “I mean the shit I say. You don’t have to second guess me.”
Guilt anchors itself deeper into my system.
When was the last time she could really believe what I said?
That she didn’t second guess me?
“He’s your ex for a reason, right?”
The question causes me to grumble loudly under my breath.
“I ain’t got no reason to worry unless you give me one.”
His flirty wink has me wanting to punch him in his overly pretty college boy face; however, I force myself to settle for simply curling my fist at my side.
“You are incredible, you know that?” Pres coos in a voice I thought was only reserved for me.
“Eh, I just know how to take care of a good thing.”
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
How does he keep saying all the right shit?
How did I forget how to?
How did I stop being the one to make her face light up like that?
“If it’s cool with you, I’m gonna step outside to get some fresh air. All the club smoke is suffocating the shit out of me. It’s the same shit they use at the frat house, which is why I spend most of those parties out by the pool.”
“Totally get it,” Pres sweetly says prior to giving him a small pat on the leg. “Will you actually have the limo come around to get us?”
Her request makes my heart sink for various reasons.
That should’ve been our limo.
She should be sick of this place with me.
We should be sneaking away to have it drive us around town or out to the lake – our lake – while we get drunk and high off of each other.
“I wanna change before we go back to your place for the after party.”
His place?
After party?
I don’t fucking like any of those words.
I don’t fucking like him.
“Sure thing, babe,” he supportively says before leaning over to plant a soft kiss on her cheek. “Whatever you want.”
Me.
I’m what she wants.
And you know what I don’t fucking want?
Someone trying to fucking replace me.
Blaze was…a pathetic joke to keep people from bothering her about us, but this guy…This college frat fuckhead has merit.
Potential.
Power to take away and keep from me what’s mine.
He’s gotta go.
Permanently.
Kevin strolls away for the exit at the same time Pres rises to her feet making eye contact with me for the first time.
“Hey you,” I sweetly greet, palm open for her taking.
She smiles, but it’s obviously forced. “Collins.”
It takes longer than I like for Pres to place her hand in mine, and it hurts more than I know how to hide.
I lead the two of us to a spot across the room, far from our dates’ immediate eyes if they unexpectedly return, and far from the judgmental gazes of our peers who would love one last juicy piece of gossip to get around before graduation.
Honestly?
I don’t fucking care anymore.
About them.
About the rumors.
About anything but getting my girl back.
The D.J. announces the arrival of “slow jams” along with some less than clever way of announcing shortly after they’ll announce Prom King and Queen. Neither of us were nominated this year, so it’s not like it affects us.