Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 145634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
“Um, school’s good.” I clear my throat and turn to face him a little more. “It's a lot of work, but,” I force myself to look up at him and into his eyes and not back down to his dick as I continue, “I like it. And it’ll be worth it in the end.”
“You always did put all of your effort into school,” he says, smirking. He takes another drag. “That's great, though,” he adds as he exhales and blows the sweet-smelling smoke away from me. He never smoked around me back in high school. He hid a lot from me back then.
He looks sexy as fuck doing it.
I can't stop staring at his lips, remembering how soft, yet demanding they felt against mine.
“How’s, uh,” I pause as I have no idea what he’s doing now. “What do you do?” I ask him, my forehead pinching.
He takes a long drag, and exhales slowly. I waiting, watching him as he quickly licks between his thumb and pointer finger and pinches the blunt out. Oh, the things he used to do to me with that tongue, even if we only ever made out. When he’d lick and kiss my neck, it was the most intense feeling. The subtlety and gentleness were so unexpected.
The thought makes my nipples pebble, and my breath come in short pants. It's been way too long since I've gotten laid. I've been focused on school. I can't believe I'm getting turned on watching him put a joint out.
“I’m in business now,” he answers and glances up at the TV. His eyes stay focused on it even though we both know he’s not watching it.
Awkward. Did I ask the wrong question?
This time he takes a deep breath, rolling the blunt between his fingers absent-mindedly as I wonder what's going on in his head.
After a minute he huffs a short chuckle and asks, “Do you remember all of those notes we used to pass back and forth?”
A small laugh sneaks out from my lips and a blush warms my cheeks. I bite my bottom lip, stifling my smile and remembering free period. “I do. And all of those doodles you’d draw.” I can feel the grin grow on my face. I can’t help it. “I especially liked the ones of Mr. Clinko. Remember how mad he’d get when everyone would continue to talk after he told us to quiet down?”
“And that vein in his neck would start popping out. Good times,” he says, leaning back and tapping his fingers against the armrest. Him bringing that up soothes so much of the anxiety running through me. Or maybe it’s just the memory.
“We did have fun.” I give him a shy smile as I add, “You always distracted me from whatever I was supposed to be studying.”
He nods his head slightly, the trace of a smile still on his lips, and the conversation ends there. I sit silently beside him, not wanting to bring up what happened between us, or how things ended.
I pull my legs up and sit cross-legged. I should apologize. I know I should.
Out of the corner of my eye I see him run his hands through his thick dark hair. He used to do that when he was nervous or stressed.
He takes a deep breath and asks, “So what do you do for fun now?”
I laugh nervously. “Take a nap, or just veg out with Netflix. I'm pretty boring.” But you already know that.
He laughs with me. “You always were a good girl. Never wanting to go out and party.” Slowly, a grin spreads across his lips as he says, “Except for those couple of times at Lookout Hill.”
“Well, if I remember correctly, I was coerced,” I flirt back. Lookout Hill is where we first made out. Where I first felt him. It was the only place we had complete privacy. Where we could do whatever we wanted.
“Oh really? You seemed pretty willing,” he retaliates.
“Me? No! I never did anything that would get me into trouble.” I can’t look him in the eyes as I say that. I know I let him get farther than anyone else did. More than a few times, I was the one pushing. He never took advantage of me though. He never pushed me to do more than I wanted. The memory makes my heart clench.
“Well, why don't we change that?” he asks with his voice low and full of lust.
Fuck, this is bad. I know this is going to end with my regretting whatever happens. I hesitate to answer.
A deep, low chuckle fills the room and pulls me out of my inner panic.
“Relax, Emma,” he says as he holds out the half-smoked blunt. “I was thinking along the lines of taking a hit. Just try it. It’ll help you relax.”
I've never smoked before. I'll probably choke and make a fool of myself. I know all the reasons I shouldn’t smoke. I have a fucking speech memorized to tell the kids who get caught with it.