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)
“What?” I stammer, dragging my stare from his body and back to his face.
“You look irritated and you hadn’t even seen me yet.” He flashes me a smug grin.
Truth is, I saw him plenty today. I didn’t have any altercations in the parking lot like yesterday, but the Hoodlums did give me shit. I guess my showing them up on the court yesterday didn’t sit too well. The school day was almost over today when I was called into my aunt’s office where Coach Rendell was asking if I wanted to join the team. It’d been surreal and I said yes, because for the first time since I’d moved to Hood River, I felt wanted.
“Don’t you have attics to clean?” I grumble, the venom missing in my words.
“I’d much rather bug you.”
I let my eyes skim over his appearance again. He didn’t take a shower after practice today, no doubt knowing Aunt Karen would make him do dirty, sweaty chores. My mouth waters as I wonder how salty he would taste if I ran my tongue up the side of his throat.
“You should have eaten lunch, rat,” he says, releasing the doorframe to step into my room. “You’re looking awfully hungry.”
The air seems charged, but I don’t say anything to make it spark.
“Dinner will be ready in an hour,” Aunt Karen chirps, making us both startle as she peeks her head in the door. “Roan, hon, I was thinking instead of the attic, you could dismantle my desk and move it into my bedroom. I’m hoping to give Hollis a little more space.” She winks at me.
“Yeah,” Roan says, “I’ll get right on it.”
She leaves us and he saunters the rest of the way into the room. His attention is on the desk as he inspects it. My phone continues to buzz, no doubt texts from Lucas, but I’m no longer mad at him. I’d much rather watch Roan take apart a desk while I imagine him taking my ass over it.
He leaves, and I’m assuming to grab tools. I take the moment to gather my wits and reply back to Lucas’s texts.
Lucas: It’s nothing serious.
Lucas: You’re not mad are you?
Lucas: I like Eric, but we don’t have the connection you and I did.
Lucas: If you hadn’t moved away, you know it would be you.
Lucas: Text me back when you’re not pissed at me.
He then sends a picture of his abs as though that will fix everything. When we’d been dating in secret, we sent dirty pictures back and forth a lot. I’d enjoyed the thrill back then, but his abs are just abs to me. I don’t have the spike in body temperature or the rapid beating of my heart or the instant hard-on. No, my body responds to one guy in particular now. My fuck-hot enemy.
Me: We’re cool. Just have to study. Talk soon. Tell Eric I said hi.
I leave it at that. He responds with smiling emojis. I’m feeling slightly sorry for myself when Roan enters the room. He tosses the tools on the bed beside me and then sets to pulling stuff off Aunt Karen’s desk.
“Need help?” I ask, my eyes roaming down his muscular back and to his nice ass.
“Nope.”
“Fine, I’ll just watch.”
He looks over his shoulder and smirks, sending a ripple of heat rushing through my veins. “Suit yourself.”
Annoyed at my eagerness to stare at him, I snatch my algebra book out of my bag and start to work on my homework. “Did you already do the assignment in Henley’s class?”
Roan laughs. “No.”
“Do you plan on doing it?”
“Fuck no.”
“It’s worth twenty-five points.”
“So?”
“So you kinda need this class to graduate.”
“I’ll pass.”
He’s getting pissy now, tossing stuff onto the floor off the desk. One thing I’m learning about Roan is when you poke at his touchy subjects, he responds with defensive anger.
“I could help you,” I offer.
He jerks his head my way, a sneer on his face. “In trade for what?”
“Why does there have to be a trade? Why can’t I just help you?”
“I don’t want your help.” He snags up a small Allen wrench and kneels to start with the first screw.
“You could be nice to me. That’s a fair trade,” I grumble.
“I’m already being nice.”
I scoff. “This is your version of nice? Maybe I ought to tutor you in that department too.”
At this, he laughs. The sound is throaty and goes right to my dick. “This house is neutral ground. I already told you.”
Oh, God. He’s being serious. This is as nice as he gets.
“I could fix your dent,” he says, his back to me.
Fix my dent?
“On my car?”
He nods and shoots me a serious look. “Jordy’s brother owns a garage. Sometimes when they’re overloaded, I go in and help. The money’s under the table, but it helps me save it away for when Roux and I get the hell out of here.”