Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Indeed. I nod, my gaze lingering on the curve of his face, the way his hair curls up at the ends.
He flashes a grin. “Plus you opened my eyes about how sucky Twilight really is—but I’d watch all of them with you if you wanted. That’s a true friend.”
I laugh. “Thank you…I think?”
Someone squeals his name, and we both turn to see a skinny, pretty, blonde girl in a miniskirt and a low-cut green shirt. Her giant boobs bounce as she runs toward us and grabs him in a bear hug, throwing her arms around his waist. “Ryker!”
He’s motionless, standing with his arms at his sides as she coos over him, brushing her lips over his cheek, her hand squeezing his bicep.
Of course, it’s none other than Sasha, the Theta who hooked up with Margo’s Kyle. I grimace, imagining what it would be like to walk in and see your boyfriend banging this Playboy lookalike. Not pretty.
She bats her eyes up at him. “I haven’t seen you at any of the parties. We need to get together soon.” She rakes her hand across his shoulders, wiping at a nonexistent piece of lint. “You looked amazing at last week’s game, by the way. Remember that time we went to the basement after we beat LSU and I—”
“Uh, yeah.” His face is carefully blank, and I suspect—am almost certain—she was about to recall some tryst they had.
It says a lot about a girl that she will talk about her sexual exploits in front of another girl. But then Sasha’s not exactly a nun.
My gut says he’s slept with her.
My heart tightens.
I have no claim to him at all, as I remind myself.
We. Are. Just. Friends.
“So how are you?” she says, easing in closer to him.
“I’ve been busy with practice,” he replies, but his eyes are on me.
I swallow and break our gaze, thinking about these confusing feelings I have for him. Because I can say all day long that I just want to be friends, but the truth is I’m so fucking hot for him that it hurts. I can’t stop writing about him. I can’t stop looking at him. And I want to pull out every blonde hair on Sasha’s head.
What if I fall all the way for him? Is this the kind of thing I’d have to put up with?
How can one girl ever be enough for him? My mom wasn’t enough for my dad.
He looks down at her, a polite smile on his face. “Hey, Sasha. I’m talking to someone. Do you mind?”
“Oh!” Sasha looks over at me as if just noticing I’m here. She smiles. “Have we met?” Her long lashes flutter against her porcelain complexion.
Several times. “Yes.”
She squints. “Wait. You’re a Chi O, right?”
I nod. “I’m Margo’s stepsister.” Never in my life have I been proud to own that one. But the thing is, when you screw over a Chi Omega, the girls will line up behind her to get you back.
“Oh.” She laughs, the sound grating on my nerves. “I suppose she doesn’t like me very much.” She leans in conspiratorially. “Just tell her Kyle was a one-time thing, will ya? No harm, no foul. She can have him back.”
My eyes narrow, but my voice is sugary sweet and oh so Southern. “Sweetie, she doesn’t even know who you are.”
She cocks her head. “Oh. Really? That can’t be right. I’m sure she knows—”
“Mmmm, oh yeah, she’s moved on to bigger and better. But how nice for you to tell me it was just a one-time thing.” I smile brightly. “Take care now. Use condoms.”
I hitch my backpack up on my shoulder, give Ryker a smoldering glare, and walk off.
If that’s the kind of girl he goes for—my fists clench—then what on earth does he see in me?
Ugh. Why does it even matter? Neither of us is going to act on it.
Ryker calls my name, but I don’t stop.
I hear footsteps behind me. It’s him. “Hey, why did you run off like that? We were in the middle of making plans.”
My jaw tenses.
“Red. Come on. I told her to buzz off.”
My voice is sharp. “Like that makes it better? How many girls on this campus have you been with?”
He flushes. “I never claimed to be a saint. I’m not the same person I was last year.”
I snort. “I didn’t see you in a rush to get away from her.”
“I was being polite!”
I halt and look at him. “You shouldn’t have been!”
His mouth parts at my vehemence, but I take off walking again and he keeps up with me.
“Why are you so upset?” he asks. “Are you jealous?”
“Get over yourself.” I’m breathing hard as I walk-jog.
He takes my arm and pulls me to a stop. “You are. You can go on and on about Connor and how perfect he is, but if a girl stops and says hi to me, you storm off. Why is that?” He studies me intently. “Don’t you think that means something?”