Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
I’ve been in here a few times, even though I shouldn’t—mostly as an experiment to see if I could handle it. I can’t. My knees almost buckle as I breathe in the familiar scents, so much stronger up here. All around her room are pieces of random art and photographs of her with her family and friends.
There is nothing of me. Not one picture. Not a single memory.
I made it this way. I did this.
Because I didn’t want to smother her. Because I didn’t want her to rely on me. Because relying on her was dangerous for both of us. Because I knew the lines were always going to be blurry, and my ability to separate her from the obsession might become impossible. I could never let go of the fact that I’d let her down, even as I tried to help, and my mistakes had altered her, and us, irrevocably.
I cross over to the bed and drop her on it. Her boobs bounce, along with the rest of her. I’m going to burn this bikini. Light it on fire and watch it go up in flames.
She scrambles to her knees, face red and beaded with sweat, eyes blazing. “What the hell is wrong with you?” She rubs her ass and looks over her shoulder, probably checking for marks.
“What’s wrong with me? What the hell is wrong with you coming down there dressed like this?” I fling a hand out toward her, eyes raking over all that bare flesh. That Clarke was eyeing like his next meal. That Freshman Jerk-off was going to try to get a piece of.
Her eyes flare, and her lip curls in a sneer. “Are you kidding me? You were butt-ass naked in front of my entire goddamn art class for three hours, and you’re coming at me with this load of crap?”
“It’s not the same fucking thing at all!” I shout back.
“You’re right. It’s not. I’m actually wearing clothes, and you were wearing nothing. And for what purpose, other than to remind me, yet again, that I’m inconsequential to you?” She motions to her chest. “Every single girl down there is dressed exactly the same. I was trying to fit in.”
Not even remotely true, but she’s spitting mad, and so am I.
My body is reacting in ways it really has no business doing right now, and all it does is make me angrier. “Is that what you want, Lavender? To be a bunny like the rest of the vapid lemmings down there? Gonna make your rounds through the team, minus the guys you’re related to? Then maybe you can start on the football team when you’re done.”
“And so what if I want to?” She props her fist on a curvy hip. “Who are you to dictate what I do and with who? You sure as hell enjoy the perks of all these parties. Why shouldn’t I?”
I don’t know what kind of rumors she’s heard, or what she thinks she knows about me, but I’m doubtful it’s accurate. I’m not a saint, but I’m not like Maverick or BJ. Regardless, the mere thought of her hooking up with one of my teammates, let alone more than one of them, makes my brain short out, and I become the worst, most heinous version of myself.
“This is a ploy to get my attention, isn’t it, Lavender? Did you want to get me alone again and see what would happen? Haven’t we done this before?” I take her face in my hands, warm and alive and so fucking beautiful, it hurts to even look at her. But I lean in anyway, the torture of being this close to her better than the alternative, which is Clarke or some other asshole getting his hands on her. “Nothing has changed, Lavender. I still don’t want you.” Lies. All lies.
A flash of hurt mars her features, but she covers the reaction quickly, and her full lips twist into a sneer. “Are you sure about that?” Her fingertips connect with my chest and goose bumps flash across my skin. She holds my gaze as her hand drifts down, the challenge in her eyes apparent. I naïvely assume she doesn’t have the balls to go there, until she does. She skims my erection and cups me through the thin fabric. “How screwed up must you be now, Kodiak, that manhandling me gets you all jacked up?”
I grit my teeth against the desire to stop the lies and end this torment. Instead, I do what I’ve programmed myself to: be an asshole. “You’re practically naked. You’re all tits and ass and bare skin, just like the last time. Have some goddamn self-respect, Lavender.” I release her and stalk out of her room, slamming the door behind me.
I loathe myself for the things I said and the way I handled her.