Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 149510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Chest to chest, I kiss him back. A complex warmth becomes rooted in my belly before it starts to spread to the rest of my body, and a delicious throbbing between my thighs makes a small moan escape my throat.
“Scottie,” he whispers against my mouth, and my hips push into his until I can feel the growing hardness beneath his lounge pants. An intense, powerful feeling I’ve never experienced in my life overwhelms me.
If he asked right now, I think I’d let him put himself inside me. Which is fucking nuts, considering Ace and Julia are asleep ten feet away.
His hands move through my now-loose hair as he pushes his lips to mine again, so softly this time I barely feel them. Just like our voices, they’re a whisper.
“Get some rest,” he orders. “It’s okay to sleep. I promise.”
He punctuates that statement by turning me on my opposite side and pulling my back flush against his chest.
He’s still hard and I can feel his arousal on my ass, but his big arms cocoon my body in a way that’s not overtly sexual. It’s gentle and caring and makes me feel safe and protected.
I thought it would take me ages to fall asleep—to let go enough to pass out. But there, in the warmth of Finn’s arms, one second, I’m aware, and the next, I’m gone.
Fast asleep in Finn Hayes’s bed.
Maybe I tugged hard enough on the rope of our hot and cold tug-of-war that the bad stuff is behind us.
Sunday, October 6th
Finn
The train rattles as we pull away from the station at the stop before mine, and I sink down in my seat and pull my jeans away from my knees. My knuckles are a mess, and my face doesn’t look great either, but thanks to a dark basement room full of rich kids, I’ve got twenty-five hundred dollars in my pocket.
I rub my lips together to remind myself of the stinging split in the bottom one and catch the slightest hint of the taste of Scottie’s lip gloss.
My jaw locks. When she wakes up in my bed alone and realizes I’m gone, I know she’s going to be pissed. I didn’t take her virginity—I’m not that big of a dick—but even the act of sleeping together is the kind of intimacy that deserves a “good morning” rather than an empty bed. Instead, I’m on my way to hell.
Willow texted me first thing this morning, upset from a confrontation with our father in the middle of the night. Both Trav and Jack stayed at a friend’s house because they’d been drinking, and our mom worked the overnight shift at the factory—something she’s apparently been doing a lot because of the two-dollar pay differential.
Leaving my siblings alone in that rotting house was my biggest fear about going to Dickson.
I lean my head back on the seat and close my eyes, allowing the lull of the train’s motion to take me back to last night. To the sheer power I felt beating Donnie Marks and the way Scottie kissed me back on bleeding lips.
For the first time in his life, Ace even managed not to comment on it, and the night carried on almost as though it was the kind of life—the one with friends and few worries and college debauchery and a girlfriend—I could live. Scottie and I talked a little in the shadows of the night, though she didn’t say much about home.
I didn’t say much about home either, but now that I’m on my way this morning, I’m remembering why.
Scottie Bardeaux doesn’t need to be mixed up with someone like me, no matter how good it feels to hold her while we fall asleep.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, startling my eyes open. When I pull it out and read the text, I know with certainty today isn’t going to get any better.
Ace: Scottie just left. I tried to smooth things over, but she was upset. Pretty sure you’re going to have to do some fast talking if you’re going to have a prayer of salvaging that situation.
Me: It’s for the best.
Ace: I hope you’re sure.
Me: Don’t worry about it.
Ace: Okay, buddy. Hit me up when you get back if I’m not in the room.
Shaking my head to clear it, I scroll down to the messages Willow sent earlier this morning.
Willow: I can hear him breaking stuff, but I have the door locked and the chair under the knob, like you said.
Willow: I think he’s asleep. I don’t hear anything anymore.
Me: Keep the door locked.
My blood boils and my heart races as I think about my sister being there alone and frightened. Maybe Trav and Jack taking her along when they go out drinking isn’t such a bad option.
Knowing it’s been nearly an hour since I heard from her last, I check in again.