Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Oh hell no.
“What are you doing here?” I practically bark at Simone. Max, Jules, and I have been triple teaming her about returning to school, and it seemed like she had finally relented, promising to return this weekend. She hadn’t missed enough classes yet to hurt her graduation date, and we all three agreed that it would be a secret between us and that Mom and Dad never had to know about her temporary insanity.
“I’m staying,” she says as she pushes past Van and leaves her suitcases on the porch. With a toss of her long brown hair off her shoulders, she pats Van on the arm and says, “Can you bring those in for me?”
“You’re not staying, Simone,” I say with frustration. “You said you were going back to school.”
“Changed my mind,” she says calmly, folding her arms over her chest. “And I can’t stay long term at Max’s because I’m taking up one of the boys’ rooms and he needs it back. I like this area, I love my brothers, so I’m staying. “
“Not here, you’re not,” I toss out, figuring if I deny her a roof over head she’ll wake the fuck up.
“You don’t mind, do you, big guy?” Simone asks as she turns her pretty head and bats her lashes at Van. Jesus…she’s even making her French Canadian accent heavier to add to the allure.
I can tell by the look on his face that Van’s not impressed. In fact, he looks quite bored with her, and that’s awesome. He won’t let her stay.
Instead the fucker shrugs and mutters, “I don’t give a fuck, but you’re not getting my room.”
“You’re not getting my room either,” I tack on.
“It’s settled then,” Simone exclaims brightly as she flounces by me and drops down on the couch. “I totally don’t mind sleeping here.”
Van looks at me, waiting to see what I want. I give a deep sigh and he knows what that means, so he steps out onto the porch and pulls Simone’s bags in.
“Be a sweetie,” she purrs at him, “and put those in Lucas’s room so they won’t be in the way.”
Van answers her by dropping them just inside the door, which he shuts behind him. Without a word, he walks toward the hallway that leads to his bedroom.
Simone calls out, “I’m Simone, by the way. Lucas’s little sister.”
Van doesn’t even stop or acknowledge her and within moments I hear his bedroom door shutting. I rub my hand over my face and then turn my glare onto Simone. “What the fuck are you doing, Simone? This is crazy even by your standards.”
“He’s kind of rude, don’t you think?” Simone asks, completely ignoring my question.
“Not as rude as you showing up on my porch with luggage saying you’re staying here without asking,” I say, and then take a deep breath. “And not as rude as you deciding not to go back to school after you agreed it was the best thing for you.”
“You don’t understand—”
“What I understand”—I come perilously close to yelling at her—“is that you are less than thirty days from graduating with a bachelor’s degree from a fucking ivy league school, and if you go back now, you will not fuck that up. It is absolutely ridiculous for you to think you can step away when you’re this close.”
Simone stares at me a moment and then lowers her gaze to her lap. Her voice is soft when she says, “I’m not that close to graduating.”
“What?” I ask, thoroughly confused.
Her face tilts up and she’s already wincing at my expected outburst from what she’s getting ready to say. She blurts it out so fast I think I mistake her for a moment. “I actually never enrolled for this semester.”
“What the ever-loving fuck?” I yell at Simone, giving her even more reason to wince. “How is that even possible?”
“I decided last semester I was just done with school,” she says quietly. “I was racing for a goal that wasn’t mine, but was Dad’s.”
“It was your goal too,” I say, discounting her position.
“No,” she says firmly while shaking her head. “It wasn’t. Dad is always the one that pushed medical school at me, and well, I just never told him differently, that I didn’t want to be a doctor.”
“So you just decided not to finish the last semester of your undergrad?” I ask incredulously. “What have you been doing for the last two and a half months?”
“Working at a bar off campus,” she says.
“And the money for your tuition and what Mom and Dad give you for living expenses?” I grit out.
“The tuition’s been refunded; the check was sent to me. As for the living expenses…well, I’ve been using some of the money they put in my account each month to supplement my wages.”
“They are going to fucking kill you,” I mutter, but that’s an exaggeration. They’re not killers, but they are going to be extremely pissed at her.