Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Pulsing and pounding music from another room rattles the window above the kitchen sink, and when I glance up, I fully expect to see my reflection staring back at me—only it isn’t me.
Gasping, I grip the counter’s edge and spin on my heels, coming almost face-to-face with none other than Talon.
His full mouth curls at one end. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
Composing myself, I reach for my drink and stand back as he scans the array of beverages I’ve recently organized.
“You do this?” he asks, pointing.
“Maybe.”
Talon smirks before selecting a Corona. He twists the cap and tosses it in an open-topped garbage can nearby. “Have to admit, kind of surprised to see you here. This doesn’t seem like your kind of scene.”
“It isn’t.” I shrug one shoulder before taking a sip.
“Then why are you here?”
I don’t see how that’s any of his business, but since he asked …
“For a friend,” I say. “She asked me to come.”
“And then she ditched you?”
“I’m perfectly capable of walking into a party and finding something to do on my own.”
He scratches at his temple. “It’s just that most girls travel in pairs or packs or whatever.”
“I’m not most girls.”
“I know,” he says without hesitation.
There’s a vibration rattling in my chest, and it takes me a second to realize someone simply turned the music up.
Talon keeps his gaze trained on me and while he’s distanced himself a few feet away, the walls around us continue to close in.
Heat prickles at my hairline and my skin flashes hot. With my stomach in knots, I drop my drink on the counter and make a beeline for the back door in desperate search for air.
The metal door slams behind me and I find myself on a small wooden deck with rotted floorboards and party lights hanging from above. Empty and over-turned red plastic cups litter the area around me and if I were feeling better, I’d stack them up and throw them away.
I can’t stand a mess. I can’t stand disorganization or chaos.
They say a frenzied childhood will do that to a person.
I take a seat on one of the steps leading to the back yard and rest my elbows on my knees.
Deep breaths …
The creak of the door demands my attention a second later, and I turn back to find Talon standing in the doorway, his expansive frame blocking the light from the inside of the house and framing him in an ethereal glow at the same time.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Just needed some fresh air,” I say. The night air is verging on bone-chilling, at least by SoCal standards, and I’m not sure how long I’ll last out here, but I’m quite certain if I hadn’t left the kitchen, I’d be standing in a pool of my own vomit right now.
“Mind if I have a seat?” he asks.
“Are you usually this polite when no one’s looking?” I ask, scooting over.
“What do you mean?” He takes the spot beside me. The steps are narrow, maybe three or four feet wide if I had to guess, and our outer thighs are pressed against one another.
I rest my head against my hand, turning to look at him. “You have a reputation. And it isn’t a nice one.”
He laughs though his nose. “What have you heard?”
“That you’re a dick,” I say, recalling the time I watched him body slam another guy outside the Econ building. It was the Monday after a devastating Tiger loss and the guy was talking shit to Talon about some fumbled catch. “And I’ve seen you in action, so don’t chalk it up to rumors.”
“I’m only a dick when I have to be.”
“No one has to be a dick.”
“Maybe in your world.” He glances into the yard, which is long and deep and turns into a pitch-black void halfway back.
“Please.” I roll my eyes. If the man only knew what my world was like and how many times I’d have loved to be a dick to people …
A guy and girl emerge from behind a tree in the dark distance. He zips his fly. She wipes her mouth on the side of her hand. They stumble off, disappearing around the side of the house hand in hand.
Ah, young love …
I heard a girl talking once a few years back. She claimed she blew Talon at a party and as soon as he got his, he pushed her off him and refused to so much acknowledge her the rest of the night.
Maybe he felt the need to shoulder check the asshole talking shit about him after a bad game, but there’s no excuse for being cruel to a girl whose only crime was worshipping his cock.
The door behind us swings open and slams shut, and the weight of heavy footsteps reverberates across the worn decking.
“Talon, there you are, man,” a guy’s voice says.