Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
I swipe the fork from the plate and eat a piece of the pie. “Who’s Livvie?”
Erika takes the fork back immediately, scowls and says, “My roommate. The one who asked you to come and walk me home from the frat party.”
“I don’t know any Livvie. I did a favor for Zeke Audley because I owed him one.”
“Same thing.” She sets her fork down and gets to her feet. “Anyway, like I said, I don’t need protection. Thanks for everything.”
I can tell by her tight, fake smile that I’ve done something wrong, but fuck if I know what it is. What I do know is that she’s leaving, which is bad. Very, very bad. I glance at the pie which she was so happy about just five minutes ago. I scramble for the plastic bag. “What about your pie? Don’t you want to take it with you?”
“No. I don’t have a refrigerator.” Her hand is on the door.
I abandon the pie and jump toward the entryway. “Okay. Let me get my shoes on and I’ll walk you back to your dorm.”
“You don’t have to. It’s only across the street.”
Shoes? Who needs them? I let her open the door and follow her out. “A lot can happen on streets. Accidents, for instance. They happen on streets. A good 90 percent of all accidents happen on streets.”
She stops in the hallway. “Only 90 percent? Where do the other 10 percent occur?”
I cast around wildly for an answer to my made-up statistic. “Bathrooms,” I blurt out. “Ten percent of accidents happen in bathrooms and the other accidents all happen on the street.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “I feel like you’re making this up.”
I shake my head vigorously. “Nope. I learned it in health in high school.” I don’t even remember if I took health in high school.
“I see that there’s little I can do to convince you to stay home. You made that favor and you’re going to follow through, aren’t you?”
There’s something about the tone of her voice that makes me think I’m in dangerous territory. Ninety percent accident territory, but I don’t know why. Keeping promises is a good thing in my book. If you say you’re going to do something and you don’t follow through, you deserve to step on Legos. But I feel like if I say that, Erika’s going to be mad. For the hundredth time, I curse my inexperience with women. “I just want to walk you home,” I finally answer.
“Because of the accidents?”
“Yeah.” And because I want to spend more time with you and even if it’s only the space of a few minutes, it’s worth it. I don’t say those words out loud though, because we just met and even a dumbfuck like me knows that saying shit like that to a woman who is half your size and doesn’t know more than your full name will freak her out.
“Fine. It’s not like I can stop you.” She turns on her heel and glides down the hallway. I stare a little because she walks different than anyone I know—graceful, like a butterfly. Her feet barely touch the ground. Her hair hangs long and low, the ends brushing the top of her ass. I gnaw on my inner cheek. I wish I could touch her ass. It’s high and round and perfect for my hands.
I turn hot as the image of me cupping her ass cheeks in my palms while I hold her above me and she rides my face until she creams flashes in front of my eyes. I press a palm to my forehead. Get a grip, man. She doesn’t want you that way.
I don’t think she wants me any way. She stalks forward, without even a glance over her shoulder to see if I’m still behind her. That twists me up inside. What’s worse is that she’s right. Her dorm is just across the street and by the time we’re at the front entrance barely any time has passed.
“Good night, Tank,” she says and slips inside the building.
I watch as she disappears down a hall. My hands fist at my sides and resolve sets in. She might not want me, but I’m still not letting her walk around campus by herself.
CHAPTER 6
ERIKA
Maybe I should have said I could walk myself home. I ponder the error of my ways as my best friend Liv, who kind of shares my dorm room with me, fights with one of her two boyfriends. Saying “boyfriends” has gotten way easier over the last week. It’s pretty much normal now in my head.
Almost as normal as it is for me to not be sure which one she’s fighting with right now. One took off, and if you ask me, it’s impossible to tell them apart. I should have paid better attention to who was wearing what. She never agrees that they look the freaking same, but they do. Identical. I don’t know how she so easily tells them apart. Maybe that’s because she’s been with them since she was fifteen. Going off the conversation, I’m guessing it must be Levi. He’s the one on the football team everyone is always going on and on about.