Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 170885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 170885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
She’s wrong. Or maybe I’m also holding on to another myth that was never true.
But seriously, what does it mean if I’m more worried about Lan’s reaction than my damn parents’?
Not that I’m not concerned about Mum and Dad—I get a queasy feeling just thinking about that conversation, but Lan…
I can feel my stomach dipping when I imagine the haughty, disappointed expression he often gives my art.
He’s always been perfect, and his disapproval gives me fucking nightmares.
“I mean, not to be the devil’s advocate.” Cecily grimaces. “But nothing good will happen if Lan knows about Nikolai. That’ll be like when he learned about Killian and Glyn all over again.”
“That’s what I said.” I rub my face. “Nikolai doesn’t seem to agree. I really don’t want them to fight again.”
“You’re right…” Glyn’s shoulders droop. “It won’t be pretty.”
“You bitches!” A loud voice comes through and we all groan as Remi slides to our table, dragging Ava behind him. “I can’t believe you’re having afternoon tea without my lordship. If I hadn’t seen Glyn’s story, I would’ve been none the wiser. And then I find this one lurking in the house like a thief. You bitches will be the death of me, seriously.”
“I’m not a thief, I was just looking for Bran.” Ava kisses my cheek. “Hi, Bran.”
“Hey.”
Ava sits beside Cecily and hugs her. “Missed you, bestie.”
Cecily rubs her arm. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” She smooches her cheek.
Remi pulls up a chair and invades the space between me and Cecily, and they fight about who gets to sit beside me.
Since I’m the most levelheaded of the group, they always want to be with me. I often get texts like, It’s boring without you, Bran.
Even though I’m not a clown like Remi or hyper like Ava, I have a special place in the group.
Why did I ever feel like I’d be judged by my closest friends? My intimate circle of support?
No, it’s not them I was scared of. It’s me. It’s always my-fucking-self.
I’m my own worst enemy.
“So what were you talking about before my lordship’s spectacular arrival?” Remi steals Glyn’s macarons and Cecily’s tea.
“Nothing.” Cecily winks at me.
I shake my head at her and take a deep breath. “Remi, Ava. I want to tell you something.”
Though I’m joined by Cecily and Glyn, my movements are stiff at best as we walk into the Heathens’ mansion.
My sister and my friend have been here countless times, considering their boyfriends, but that’s not the case for me.
I remain in my element as we push past the partygoers. The Heathens went all out with this birthday party. Countless lights cover the ceiling, casting violet and blue lights on the people jumping to the trendy music.
Alcohol is thrown around everywhere and I would really like to be wasted for this, but that’s just cowardly, so I stop myself from snatching a drink.
I catch a glimpse of Maya, who’s wearing a glamorous white dress, dancing with a group of people in bizarre outfits. But I don’t see Mia.
A few weeks ago, Mia introduced me to Maya, and she’s nice, but I prefer Mia’s company. We’re both introverts and get along without talking much.
Glyn leads us to the second floor and we continue pushing our way through.
My chest aches when I catch a glimpse of Mia dressed in the black version of Maya’s dress and dancing between Killian and Nikolai. Though they seem to be kicking and punching each other.
I really don’t like it when Killian hits him. I know it’s their dynamic and they’ve been like that their entire lives, but he needs to stop putting his fucking hands on him or I’ll break them.
Good grief.
Where did that violent thought come from?
“Hey you.” Jeremy slides to our side, smoothly, if I might add, and kisses Cecily a bit longer than I’m comfortable with watching.
“Hi,” she breathes as he wraps an arm around the small of her back.
My gaze strays back to Nikolai of its own accord. He looks so damn well-built in a black T-shirt and jeans. A few rebellious strands escape his ponytail and fall on his forehead. His muscles ripple with every move and the intertwined tattoos running down his biceps and arms instantly distinguish him from the crowd.
I’ve always found him beautiful. No, not only beautiful. He’s categorically hot. It just took me some time to realize that I was becoming hopelessly attracted to everything about him. The fact that I haven’t been able to touch him for days on end is messing with my head.
My gaze studies him closer, taking in his sharp jawline, full lips, and—
I frown when I get a clear look at his face. His eyes are dark, almost bottomless, his mouth is set in a line, and he seems…off.
Like that time during the fight.
He must be having one of his episodes. Though I’m not sure what type of episode it is, he mentioned they come and go. I haven’t seen him in this state since that night of the fight. Only, now, he seems more closed off.