Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 91161 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91161 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Something in the way he asked made me think he was goading King.
“He bought me the dress,” I added, slightly embarrassed that King obviously didn’t like it. It was strapless and form-fitting. Showing off the curves I’d developed in the days I’d been stuffing my face.
“Fuck no, you’re not. I’ve changed my mind,” King said, staring Preppy dead in the eyes. “You’re gonna get your fucking ass back in the house before I put a fucking bullet in your skull. That’s what you’re going to fucking do.”
“Why not?” I heard myself ask before I had time to register the fact that I had also shook off Preppy and stepped to King. He came forward, too. Our feet touched at the toes. Since I was much shorter than him, I had to look up to meet his disapproving gaze.
“Cause I fucking said so, pup,” King growled, his nostrils flaring.
His usual green eyes were now shining black pools of anger. There was a hardness to his features that suggested this was a fight I’d never be able to win.
That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try.
“I’m here because I don’t have any other options! I get that you’re fucking mad at me, or that you fucking hate me. I do. But I just wanted to pretend for one fucking night that I’m a normal girl on a normal date in a normal place!”
Just as I turned to head back into the house, King grabbed my elbow and spun me around, he tipped my chin up.
“Stay. Here,” he ordered, his face still hard and angry. “You.” King pointed to Preppy. “A fucking word. Now.”
He gestured with his chin to the house, releasing me as he stormed up the steps and slammed the front door behind him. Preppy looked amused although I’m not sure how he could’ve been with King steaming in such close proximity.
“Sorry, babe,” Preppy said with a knowing smile. “Maybe, another time?” He bounded up the steps, taking them two at a time. I thought about following them in, but I didn’t want to provoke King further.
I spent the next ten minutes stewing on the porch, wondering if they’d killed each other because I hadn’t heard anything inside. The sun had long since set over the trees, so I stayed under the safety of the light of the porch. I soon got tired of standing. My ass had barely touched the bottom step when the front door swung open, and King came bounding out. I jumped up and held onto the railing to keep from falling onto the walkway.
“Let’s go,” King said, holding out a hand to me. Anger still lingered on his face, along with a bit of confusion.
“Go? Go where?” I asked.
“On a date thing.” His brows furrowed again like my question confused him.
“With you?”
King nodded. Since his hand was still extended out to me and I’d made no move to take it, he reached over and grabbed my hand. That’s when I looked at him, I mean really looked at him.
He was freshly showered and smelled like he’d just put on cologne. He wore his usual dark jeans and a tight black t-shirt. His stubble was still there but neatly trimmed. It’s amazing what he’d done in the ten minutes he’d left me outside.
“With me,” he confirmed, slowly raking his eyes over my body. hid gaze burned into me.
“What happened to Preppy?” King stiffened.
“He’s no longer available,” King spat, obviously put off by the question.
“Oh,” I said, looking down at my feet.
“Fuck. Just forget it. It was a fucking stupid idea anyway.”
“What? No, I just… this was all Preppy’s idea anyway.”
“Shut up,” he said, silencing my rant. King tugged on my hand and led me over to his bike. He handed me a helmet and straddled the seat. He turned the key and it came roaring to life. He turned and gestured to the space behind him.
I shouted over the engine, “I’m wearing a dress!”
King grabbed my hand and tugged me toward him. “I think we know by now that you know how to straddle, so get the fuck on.” I pressed my thighs together, willing the memory of the night in his truck away.
“Why can’t we just take the truck, or we can walk.” I suggested.
King stared me down. “Pup?”
“Yeah?”
“Get on the fucking bike.”
“You’re really are a fucking asshole, you know that?.” I punctuated my words by digging my pointer finger into his chest. King smiled obnoxiously. I didn’t want a smile I wanted a fight. I was beginning to think it was long overdue.
“Took you long enough.” He said, grabbing hold of my finger.
“Long enough for what?”
“To figure out I’m an asshole. Now, get on the fucking bike.”
“Fuck you,” I spat.
King got off the bike and stalked toward me. He snatched the helmet out of my hands and roughly shoved it onto my head. My hair was trapped over my eyes and I was momentarily disoriented. King took advantage of that, by picking me up and setting me on the bike.
I shrieked into my helmet, and before I could protest and jump off, we were in motion. My options were then limited to holding onto King or flying off the back of his bike.
Reluctantly, I wrapped my arms around his waist.
What I really wanted was to wrap my hands around his throat.
We drove for what seemed like only a few minutes but in reality it was more like a half of an hour. The normally stagnant and wet Florida night air blew cool all around us as the bike pressed forward into the night.
My jaw dropped, and my heart sped when the neon lights came into view.
A carnival.
King had brought me to a carnival.
The Ferris wheel overhead appeared so close I thought that if I reached my hands up into the air I might be able to touch one of the swaying carts.
When King brought the bike to a stop in the grass parking lot, my body was still humming from the vibrations of the engine. In my excitement at being at a real live carnival, I jumped off the bike quickly, grazing my calf on one of the hot pipes.