Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 88080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“Roux. Can we talk a second?” he hisses, his body thrumming with barely contained rage.
She releases my arm and pats my chest. “Just stop, Jordy.”
I watch her as she walks down the steps toward her secret boyfriend. The same boyfriend I’m going to fucking destroy. They can pretend all they want, but everyone knows they’re together. He crowds her like he can claim her just by standing near her.
She’s not his.
Fire burns in my veins.
“I need a drink,” I grumble, never taking my eyes off them.
Roan is at my side, gripping my shoulder. “I thought part of your parole was you weren’t to drink.”
I shake him off. “You gonna tattle on me, bro?”
“Fuck off,” he grunts. “Let’s go see what we can find in the cabin.”
Several shots later and I’m halfway to plastered. I’m queasy and the world keeps spinning. Roan is nearly as fucked up as I am. We’re not always the best influence on each other. With his arm slung over my shoulders, we head back outside. Roux is still talking to Kayden. They seem to be having an argument. I laugh because it’s funny. I hope they break up so I don’t have to break his neck.
“They’re still together,” I blurt out. “Been together this whole time.”
“What the fuck?” Roan roars. “Fucking seriously?”
“Yep.”
Roan charges down the porch steps, rage fueling him forward. Because I can’t let my best friend get hurt, I storm after him. Kayden, the cocky bastard, lifts his shirt, showing off his piece.
That motherfucker.
Roan screeches to a halt, the reality of the situation sinking in. “You’re fucking carrying?”
Kayden lets his shirt drop back down and pats Roux on the ass. “See ya around, babe.”
Uncaring that this asshole has a fucking gun, I rush him, my fist swinging hard. I clock the motherfucker right in the jaw, knocking him the hell out. He slumps to the ground and his gun hits the dirt. I pick it up and charge through the woods and to the beach. With a grunt, I heave it as far into the river as I can. It splashes and I laugh.
“You’re such a dick,” Roux yells as she stumbles along the sand toward me. “I hate you!”
She’s beautiful tonight with her dark hair twisted messily on top of her head. Her glasses are perched on her nose and her features are screwed up into an angry expression. With each step, her tits bounce and her dress rides up her thighs. I’m so fucking horny for her. When she reaches me, she tries to slap me. I grip her wrist hard, twisting it behind her back. I grip her jaw with my other hand, forcing her to look up at me.
“You’re not allowed to hate me, Little Hoodlum.”
“I can do whatever the hell I want!”
I squeeze her face, making her lips pucker out. “Anything you want, honey, but not that.” I relax my grip and run my thumb over her plump bottom lip. “Now say you’re sorry.”
“Fuck you,” she snaps.
I sure fucking wish.
“You and Ramirez are through. Understood?”
“He’s my boyfriend. You can’t force me to break up with him.” Her amber eyes flash under the light of the moon.
I lean forward, enjoying the way her breath hitches at my nearness. “You don’t want him like you want me.”
“I can’t have you,” she whispers.
“You can’t,” I agree. “But that doesn’t make you want him any more. If anything, it makes you resent him.”
“You don’t know how I feel.” Her eyes well with tears. “You know nothing about me anymore.”
I release her and then gently brush a strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “I know you love Fruity Pebbles. And dumb chick flicks. I know your eyes turn dark copper when you’re worried. I also know your lips quirk up on the right side when you’re amused. I know you couldn’t care less about sports, but always cheered your brother on like it was your favorite thing to do. I know your favorite color is navy blue. I know you hate having to be tutored but are thankful for the opportunity. I know you write poems as therapy for all the fucked-up shit your mom put you through. I know—”
“Please stop,” she begs, tears racing down her cheeks. “I can’t take this.”
I pull her to my chest, hugging her and kissing her hair that smells like coconut with a hint of rum. “Okay, Little Hoodlum. Just know that time may have passed, but I still know you. The real you.”
She relaxes in my hold. “I’m so mad at you, but I’m glad you’re back.”
I stroke my fingertips up and down her spine, soothing her. Greedily, I inhale her scent and memorize the way she feels pressed against me. “I’m glad I’m back too.”
“You need to be careful,” Roux says, her hot breath tickling my chest through my T-shirt.