Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 105306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
I halt at the end of my road, determined to ditch him.
“You’re like a bad rash I can’t get rid of.”
“Like herpes?”
“I take it you speak from experience?”
“Nope.” Dallas doesn’t have the decency to look insulted by my barb. “Can we stay on the subject, please?”
“Sorry, I didn’t realize you’re on a mission.”
“If I weren’t on a mission, would I be following you?”
My chin tilts up in triumph. “So you admit it—you’ve been following me.”
“I can’t help it if we’re goin’ in the same direction.”
“Has anyone told you how annoying you are?”
“Nope, just you.” His toothy grin spreads across his entire face. “About a dozen times now already.”
The fact that this doesn’t bother him is seriously so obnoxious. Any other guy would have taken the hint. Any other guy would have walked off with his tail between his legs and left me alone. After all, I’m a girl who was just dumped, and I deserve a moment of reprieve from bullshit like this.
“It’s about to be a dozen and one…”
It’s then that I notice a small cluster of students—two girls and a guy—watching the exchange between Dallas and me, phones out and being held in a way that tells me we’re being filmed bantering. Or our photo is being taken.
“Do you see that?” I tilt my head, nodding in their direction.
“What?”
“Those three—I think they’re taking pictures of us.”
“Oh yeah. Happens all the time.”
I falter in my steps. “Well. Not to me.” I don’t like it. “Could you walk away from me, please, so they stop?”
Git.
Go!
“Not before we’re done with our talk.”
That’s right—he’s been trying to hit me up for a favor. Blah blah blah are you listenin’ to a word I say.
“All right.” He has my full attention. “Say what you want to say.” But be quick, I want to add. Be quick so I can go home, get warm, take a shower, and study…
“I need a favor.”
“Right. You mentioned something about your agent.”
“He thinks I need to find a respectable, responsible girl to hang out with. Well, be seen hanging out with,” he amends.
“And?”
“And…” He bobs his head around as if that explanation was enough and the head bobbing is its punctuation.
“And…?” Are we really doing this? Is he going to finish his sentence or are we going to stand here bobbing our heads?
“I figured…”
“Figured what?” I think my eyebrows are raised, but my face seems to be frozen solid. Numb.
Then.
The reality of his words sets in.
My palms go up. “No. No, no, no.”
“It will be easy! You’d be like an escort.”
“An escort? How lovely.” I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. In fact, my intelligence level just dropped a few points from hearing him speak.
“My agent said I’m not allowed to pay you.”
“Did he?” Wow. Dallas Colter sure knows how to lay on the charm when he’s asking someone out. “Dude, you don’t need my help pretending to be your girlfriend—you need actual help from an actual professional.”
He is nonplussed. “Who said anything about pretending to be my girlfriend? I just need a responsible, respectable girl to hang out with.”
“And you think that’s me?”
“Well.” He looks me up and down, gesturing vaguely. “Obviously.”
I have no idea whether or not to be insulted. Again.
“Define ‘responsible and respectable’.” I cross my arms, my feet rooted to the cement sidewalk.
Not sure how I feel about being described as respectable by the hottest guy on campus, for a number of reasons.
It’s not sexy.
That’s not how I would describe myself if I had to choose adjectives.
It’s not sexy.
“You know—you’re chill. Kind of like…” He’s clearly struggling to find the right words. “Okay, so if this were a movie, you’d be the wholesome girl next door. Except the girls who live next to our house barely wear any clothes and keep trying to sleep with my brothers. So the opposite of that.”
My face turns scarlet red; even in this cold weather, I can feel it burning, and only one thought enters my brain.
Dallas Colter is the worst.
nine
dallas
“I’m not saying the blond neighbor girl is a gold digger, but I am implying it.”
– Dallas to Drake
Dude, what is her problem?
“Why are you making that face?”
She looks like she tasted a sour lemon before turning her back and walking away from me—again—backpack in tow, hell-bent on ignoring me. Whatever, nothing new. Ryann Winters doesn’t like me.
We’ve established this.
From the second I broke up with her on behalf of my dipshit teammate, she’s held a grudge. As if any of this were my fault.
“Why are you pissed? The fact that you don’t want to sleep with me is a good thing.”
Honestly, she should be flattered.
“I was giving you a compliment.”
Her laugh rings out into the cold. “You’re hilarious.”
“I’m being serious. I need your help.”
“The last thing you need from me is my help, Dallas Colter.”
Suddenly, that’s the only thing I seem to need.