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)
Roan: You better be dead, because if you’re ignoring me on purpose, I’m going to kill you.
Crap.
Me: Sorry! Was studying and lost track of time.
My phone rings immediately and I can’t ignore it.
“Hey,” I squeak out.
“Don’t hey me, Roux. Where the hell are you?” Roan demands, his voice taking on that fatherly quality when he tries to be the boss of me.
“I told you,” I grumble. “Studying.”
“With who? Where are you?”
“A friend.” Not a lie. “In Rockford.”
A beat of silence.
“Get home.”
“On my way.”
I hang up and glance over at Wes. Guilt swims in his eyes. It’s not his fault my brother can be an overbearing dick.
“Sorry, but I have to go now.” I let out a frustrated sigh. “Maybe we can do this again sometime soon.”
“I’d love that.” He takes my phone from my hand, his long fingers brushing over mine. “Here’s my number. Text me later and I’ll send you some other poems I wrote.”
Okay, then.
My teacher just gave me his number.
Not weird. Not weird at all.
Except he’s looking at me like a guy looks at a girl when he likes her. Maybe this whole coffee and poetry thing was a bad idea.
“I know I’m your teacher,” Wes says as though reading my mind, “but I’m just like your brother. Not some creep. I know you’re going through some stuff with your friend. If you need someone to talk to about it, I’m a great listener. It’s the least I could do for you putting up with my forcing you to read my poetry book.”
We both laugh.
I’m lacking in the friends department at the moment. It’s kind of nice having someone to talk to and they’re not shutting you out. Charlotte, Kayden, and Jordy have all pushed me away in some capacity.
We gather our stuff and Wes guides me out to his Jeep, his palm on my lower back. I shiver at the touch but try not to read too much into it. He’s just a nice guy. I wait for him to open the car door for me and then climb inside.
On the drive home, Wes prattles on about how he’s going to try and get his poetry book published. I completely agree with him. If a publisher were to pick him up, he could be every bit as popular as Atticus. Before we know it, we’re arriving at my place. He parks and gives me a sad smile.
“I had fun. As inappropriate as it probably was. If you won’t tell, I won’t tell.” He laughs and makes a playful motion of zipping his lips.
“I had fun too. See you Monday.”
“Call me, Roux. I’m serious. Don’t suffer in silence.”
I give him a nod of appreciation before I grab my stuff. He reaches over me again to grab the door handle, leaning in so close I can smell him. Coffee and cologne. His nearness makes me feel awkward. Like I’m doing something bad that I shouldn’t. He gives me a crooked grin before pulling away.
“Bye,” I murmur before rushing out of the Jeep.
He peels out of the driveway—typical guy—leaving me shaking my head and grinning. I stop dead in my tracks to see the dark, shadowed figure standing beside the stairs.
“Do you want to tell me why in the fuck you just came home late with Wesley fucking Ewing?” Roan’s voice drips with fury.
Oh, shit.
“Not really,” I snap, storming toward the stairs.
“So help me, Roux. Stop and talk to me or I’m going to lose my goddamn mind.”
“It’s none of your business!” I shout. “I’m almost eighteen. My life is my life.”
“The hell it is,” Roan yells back. “And when you’re fucking around with a teacher, I have every right to stick my nose in your damn business.”
My face heats. “I’m not fucking around with my teacher! He’s my friend!”
“Yeah, real fucking friendly, Roux. Teachers aren’t supposed to buy you flowers and take you on dates.”
“These are from Kayden,” I shriek. “And it wasn’t a date. It was coffee. He’s the only person around here who doesn’t treat me like a child.”
“I bet,” Roan snarls. “Listen to yourself. He doesn’t treat you like a child because he wants to fuck you. Wake the hell up.”
“I hate you,” I hiss, storming up the stairs.
“And I hate that you’re sneaking around,” Roan bellows, stomping behind me. “I won’t let you do this shit. Not with him.”
“What shit?” I demand, spinning around to face him. “It. Was. Coffee.”
“Just get inside,” he growls.
“Why? So you and Jordy both can team up against me? Like old times? Remind me that I’m just the kid and you two know everything?”
“Jordy’s not here.”
“Where is he?”
“With Samantha at her hotel.”
A sharp pain stabs me right in the heart, sucking the breath from my lungs.
“W-What?”
“You can listen to his lecture later. Right now, you have to put up with mine.”