Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Guilt nearly knocks me the hell over. I’ve been a mess this weekend. I’m worried about Jordy. Stressed over Roux’s and my living situation. And then there’s Hollis.
Fuck.
I’ve been trying to push what happened far into the back of my mind. But the last two nights, it’s all I can think about. I lie awake thinking about how terrified I felt when I saw him go into the water, which makes no sense since I barely know him. Mostly, I think about kissing him. His hot, urgent tongue. The way our bodies rubbed together. How he came all over me and then used his fucking cum to jack me off.
Two nights in a row, I jerked off to that image.
Why?
I don’t even like guys.
Except him.
Hell, I’m not sure if I even like him.
But I like the way he felt. The way he tasted. Each sound that rumbled up his throat. It’s maddening and addictive. I want more, yet I want to run away. Today, at school, I’ll have to face him. He didn’t try to message me all weekend, or if he did, I don’t know because my phone was ruined in the river. I don’t know what the fuck to even say to him.
“I didn’t mean it,” Roux says, throwing her arms around me. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey,” I murmur, rubbing her back. “I’m not mad. Just lost in thought. Promise it’s not about you.”
She pulls away and smiles. “About a girl? Sidney?”
“Not Sidney.”
“Oh good. Sidney’s a hoochie.”
I snort. “What’s a hoochie?”
“A girl who makes out with all the guys and wears shirts that let her boobs hang out.”
“If you ever turn into a hoochie, I’ll beat your ass,” I tease, ruffling her hair. “No boys need to see that shit. Especially Kayden.”
Her face falls. “Kayden is so hot. He doesn’t like me, though. The only reason he talks to me now is because of Charlotte.”
“Oh yeah?”
“You’ve seen her,” she mumbles, rolling her eyes. “She’s so beautiful with her blond hair and fancy clothes. I’m…” She waves at her outfit. Guilt swarms up inside me that I can’t buy her nice clothes like Charlotte wears. “I’m just me.”
“You’re not just anything, Roux. You’re everything. To me, you’re the best damn person on the planet.”
She beams at me. “Now if you could only convince the boys at my school.”
“Maybe the boys at your school don’t deserve you. Maybe you’ll find someone better when you go to high school next year.” I’ll still whip anyone’s ass who looks at her wrong, but at least she can have something to look forward to.
“So if a boy asks me out, you’re going to let me go?” she taunts.
“You’re pushing it, kid. I might let him think about dating you, but I doubt I’ll let him actually do it.”
“Punk.”
“Just protecting you.”
Someone honks and I peek out the window. Jordy is out front in his Ford Explorer. We lock up and head downstairs.
“Hey, Little Hoodlum,” Jordy says when we get in his car. “Liking your new place?”
“It’s super nice, Jordy. You gotta come over and hang out one day. There’s even food in our fridge. Roan says he’s going to teach me to cook some stuff.”
Jordy grins at her in the mirror. “He only knows how to make grilled cheese.”
“The best grilled cheese,” I argue. It is the best. I butter it just right and watch it like a hawk so it gets toasty but not burned.
“I make tacos that will make you cry,” Jordy brags. “Your brother’s grilled cheese pales in comparison.”
“Hey, I can make tacos,” I grumble.
“Not white boy tacos.” Jordy shakes his head. “Flap meat seasoned with lime salt and pepper. Sautéed onions to throw in there. Heat up some soft corn tortillas. Heaven in your mouth, Little Hoodlum.”
“Yum,” she groans.
“I’m not done yet,” he teases. “I make a homemade salsa too. Tomatoes and tomatillos with chiles de árbol. Garlic, salt, clove, onions, a little cilantro. Your mouth will be spoiled, niñita.”
“You can move in with us. Be our own personal chef,” Roux tells him.
He laughs and fuck if it isn’t a great sound to hear. “And I didn’t even tell you about my homemade guac.”
“Dude,” I groan. “We get it. Your culinary prowess outshines mine every day of the week.”
He ignores me, continuing to taunt. “Ripe avocados, tomatoes, green jalapeno chilies, cilantro, lime juice. Just mix it all in and serve it up. You’ve never had good food until you’ve had my food.”
Roux giggles in the back. “You’re conceited.”
“It’s not being conceited when it’s the truth,” he volleys back.
We continue our banter until we pull up to the middle school. Roux jumps out and gives us a little wave before walking toward the doors. When a lanky boy with dark hair that hangs in his eyes walks up to her, Jordy and I glare.