Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 113923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
“I’ve changed my mind, by the way.” Heidi eyes me through the flames. “I’m totally on board with this plan. I cannot wait to see the look on that girl’s face when she realizes what you’ve done.”
“How are you gonna do it?” Steph asks excitedly.
This is the most fun these girls have had since they went ham on some clone’s car after he ran off with Alana’s bikini top while she was sunbathing on the beach.
“Yeah, we have to talk endgame,” Evan says. “It’d be a shame to waste an opportunity.”
“Yes,” Heidi agrees. “You have to get her and Kincaid in the same place, let him see you two together, and then dump her in public. Make it dramatic.” Heidi is in a mood tonight. I know I’m to blame for it, but I’m not sure how to fix things between us. “Maybe we can throw a party.”
Steph splashes beer on the fire in her eagerness. “Nah, too tame. Has to be on their turf. It’s no fun unless Kincaid is humiliated in front of his own kind.”
“I know where we can get a couple buckets of pig’s blood,” Alana says, which gets the rest of them doubled over laughing.
I laugh with them, playing along. Because a few weeks ago, I wouldn’t have given a damn what happened to the random clone girlfriend of a rich punk who crossed me.
But now I’ve gotten to know Mac and … I genuinely like her. She doesn’t deserve their scorn just because she’s connected to a jackass like Kincaid. And after that kiss, I know there’s something real between us, even if she’s afraid of it. I can’t tell these guys I’m having second thoughts, though. They’d tear my ass a new one.
Now that they’ve gotten a whiff of blood in the water, they won’t be satisfied until they’ve tasted flesh.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MACKENZIE
“Three days in a row, this boy lets the door slam in my face at the smoothie place. Not once does he apologize. I’m startin’ to think he’s doin’ it on purpose. I’m old-fashioned, okay? I value manners. Open a door for a lady, will ya? So the fourth day, I see him comin’. I’m ready for him. I’m inside and grab the door before he can open it. I flick the lock. This whole smoothie joint is held captive because I ain’t letting this guy in. Over my dead body.”
It’s Monday morning, and Bonnie and I are both dragging ass. She shouts from the bathroom, putting on makeup, as I make us coffee in the kitchenette. I’m only half paying attention and manage to spill milk on my shirt.
“How long did that go on?” I call from my room while I change shirts. I’m supposed to meet Preston for lunch at his house later, so I have to make sure my outfit is appropriate. Not for him, but for his mother. She likes me fine—I think?—but she’s very … particular. A tank top and jeans are not going to cut it with Coraline Kincaid.
“Long enough that the manager jumps in demandin’ I let people out. And I’m all, I’d love to—as soon as this guy apologizes or leaves. Well, eventually he must realize I’m not playin’ around, so he takes off. Next day, he locks me out of the sandwich shop until I agree to go on a date with him. So he’s pickin’ me up Friday night.”
“That’s great,” I shout, only to turn and realize Bonnie is standing right behind me with our coffee in two travel mugs. “Sorry.”
“You seem edgy.” She stares at me. “You have a secret.”
“No, I don’t.”
Her eyes burst into wide, blue saucers. “You kissed a boy.”
Witch.
“Who is he?” she demands.
There’s no use denying it. I’m entirely convinced of Bonnie’s otherworldly powers. She’ll berate me until I give her what she wants.
“Some townie,” I say. Technically, it’s true. She doesn’t need to know the townie in question is Cooper.
Ugh. Just the thought of his name quickens my heart rate.
What in the world have I done? The kiss at the festival? I can blame that one on the sugar high. But the full-on make-out grope session at his house afterward?
There’s no excuse.
I’m a horrible person. A horrible, selfish, awful girlfriend who doesn’t deserve a stand-up guy like Preston.
There is absolutely no coming back from what I did on Friday night. I know this. And yet despite the whirlpool of guilt currently foaming in my stomach, one stupid little butterfly continues to flutter inside me, flapping around and churning up memories of Cooper’s hungry lips and heated gaze.
His tongue in my mouth.
My fingers skimming the defined muscles of his unbelievably ripped chest.
And it’s not only the physical stuff that lingers in my mind. It’s everything that came before it. Talking about our families in his workshop, running around the boardwalk like a pair of rowdy kids. When I’m with him, I don’t need to put on a front. I don’t have to pretend to be the proper, well-behaved lady I’m expected to be. I feel like I’m my true self when I’m around Cooper. And that … scares me.