Lyrics of a Small Town Read Online Abbi Glines

Categories Genre: College, Contemporary, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 86972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
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Why was he here?

Slowly I moved to the door and battled with myself over if I should open it or tell him to leave through the glass. When I reached it, I already knew which side of me had won. It was the stupid side. I unlocked the bolt then the knob itself before turning it and opening it up.

“Can I help you?” I asked him, hoping to at least sound snippy since I had opened the dang thing.

“No,” he replied and his short response was the reminder I needed to close the door back.

His hand flattened on the glass and stopped me before I could move. It was as if he had read my thoughts. Maybe he had that power too. He could look sexy in anything he wore, he could make girls do stupid things, he had the ability to sting you with one glance, why not read minds? Seemed feasible. If you were Edward Cullen at least. Yeah, I was getting delirious and needed to get some sleep.

“Can I come in?” he asked me.

“No,” I replied.

He sighed. “Please,” he added.

Damn, damn, damn, I was such a girl. I stepped back and opened the door wider but said nothing. I would let him say what he wanted then I would tell him to leave so I could go to bed.

Saul walked inside and stopped just a few inches from me. I closed the door behind him and waited. He had come here. I hadn’t invited him. I did not have to make conversation or beg him to tell me why he was here. But he stayed silent.

“How is Lily?” I asked him. That was the only thing I cared about.

“Better, for now,” he replied, but he didn’t turn his head to look at me.

I wanted him to elaborate on that but decided I would go visit her myself and find out. He had brought me the gate key to get into his mother’s penthouse but hadn’t mentioned then Lily was his mom.

The longer he stood there not looking at me and not talking, my aggravation turned to anger. Why had he come here to act weird and say nothing? He didn’t like me; he had made that clear. I knew now that the few times he had been nice to me was for my Gran’s sake and not mine. I knew nothing about him but that he had an addict for a mom, but was also very wealthy, which was probably how he afforded a million-dollar home, and he had a girlfriend who seemed to be heading down that path as well.

“It’s late, I have work in the morning, I don’t know why you’re here, but I need you to go,” I told him.

He didn’t move nor did he look at me.

Was he on something? Did he do drugs too? Was that another secret I didn’t know about him?

“Saul, please leave,” I said with more conviction and started to move to open the door back up.

His hand shot out so quickly I didn’t see it until his fingers were wrapped around my wrist. It wasn’t painful, but it was firm. “Don’t. Please,” was all he said.

Sighing in frustration, I tried to free my arm from his grasp, but he didn’t loosen his hold. “Saul, if you’re high, I can call Rio. He can come get you, but I am tired and I am done with this-”

“Rio,” he said, interrupting me. “He was here. Two nights this week you were with him. You like him?” he asked, finally turning to look at me.

I stared at him completely baffled by this line of questioning. Was he here to warn me away from Rio too? Well tough luck because Rio may be his friend, but it was looking like he was my brother. I had greater dibs.

“Not your business,” I said, pulling harder on my arm this time with no luck.

Saul groaned and muttered a curse word. “Just tell me. Do you like him?”

“Why does it matter?” I shot back. “Are you going to tell me to stay away from him too?”

“No,” he said. “Rio isn’t Drake.”

His response surprised me enough to be still and stop pulling at my arm. Saul lifted his eyes and met mine. “Do you like him?”

I growled in frustration. Why did he care so much? “Again, not your business.”

He turned then and he was facing me. Much too closely. He smelled of sunscreen and cigarettes. “Rio is my friend. My best friend,” he said.

I waited for more and fought the urge to step back. He was too close.

“Then ask Rio,” I replied.

“I want to know if you like Rio,” he repeated.

“Why?” I shot back at him.

He took a step closer to me, his eyes hooded and hard to read. “Because, Henley, if you like Rio, it changes things.”


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