Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Nora turned beet-red, obviously stunned into silence.
“Ugh. God.” Olivia snatched a glass of wine from the counter, staring across the room at a group of Dayton girls. “Of course, Dayton’s trash would show up.” Then her gaze cut right to Nora. “Cute dress.” She pinched the fabric. “What is it, Gucci or Armani?”
“Um…”
“Gucci,” I said. “Right? That was what you told me.”
Olivia poured a glass of wine for me and one for Nora, divvying them out while her gaze never left Nora. “I haven’t seen you at Barrington. Where do you go to school?”
Nora gaped, looking at me, then Jackson, then back to Olivia. “Homeschooled. I was um, kicked out of the Catholic school.” It took everything in me not to swing my attention to her. Was she that ashamed of Dayton? And did she care that much what people she didn’t know thought of her?
“Oh?” Olivia took a sip. “For what?”
“Sex!” she blurted, and I nearly choked on my wine. “Sex with a boy.”
“Screw going to a religious school.” Jackson snorted and popped the top to a beer.
“Those Catholics.” I coughed again.
“She knows I’m Dayton,” Nora whispered in my ear.
“No, she just knows you’re not Barrington. Because this town is so small, I’m surprised most of them aren’t inbred.” I glanced at her. “Sorry. Present company excluded.”
Jackson walked over to a blonde guy in a letterman jacket, and Olivia shifted back to the drawer, quickly opening it and stuffing the condoms in the top of her dress. “Do me a favor, distract Jackson for like, an hour.”
“What?”
“It won’t be hard. He thinks you’re hot.” Then she shouldered her way through the party, leaving me unsure of how I felt about Jackson thinking I was hot.
“Hey, Drew?” Jackson waved Nora and me over, introducing us to the blonde guy named Max Harford.
Nora looked star-struck, blushing when Max took her hand and kissed over her knuckles. It made me want to gag.
We followed them to the couch, and for the next fifteen minutes, I listened to the two guys talk about football. Max was apparently off the team since he’d broken his legs last year, though how he did it seemed to be a sore subject.
Olivia absolutely owed me for this...
My phone vibrated in my purse, and when I pulled it out, my heart tripped a little at the sight of Bellamy’s message.
Dickhead: Baby girl...
Dickhead: You busy?
Me: Right now? Yeah.
Dickhead: Didn’t I tell you you’re never too busy for me?
I was about to type out a response when—
“What’s up fuckfaces?” the voice booming over the music was definitely Hendrix’s, and like someone had scratched a needle over a record, everyone’s attention in the room snapped toward the foyer.
Hendrix and Wolf stood by the stairwell, chugging beers. Electricity zapped through my veins like a hit because I knew that meant Bellamy was here.
“Great...” Jackson huffed, but my attention was still aimed at the entrance.
Bellamy stepped into the foyer's arched doorway and looked around the room like it was his own personal playground. Then his gaze stopped on me, and the small smirk on his lips shifted into something I didn’t like.
“West,” Jackson grumbled, draining the rest of his beer and crushing the can. “God, I hate him.”
“If you hate them, why don’t you just ask them to leave? It’s your house.”
He huffed out a breath. “It’s not as easy as that. I’m not in the mood for a fight.” And if I had to guess, Jackson was a little bit scared of them.
“Nah, fuck it, let’s beat them. There are enough of us,” Max said, anger lacing his voice. “Maybe kill them.” Max leaned in front of me to whisper across to Jackson. “Your dad has guns, right?”
Jackson’s hand landed on my thigh, and I was so in shock, I didn’t even think to move it.
They could not be serious, but the way Max’s jaw tightened before he glared back at Bellamy and the rest of the guys said he was.
“What is wrong with you?” I snapped, shoving Max away.
“Chill out, Drew.” Jackson’s gaze went right back to the entrance. “I’m not getting a gun. But after what they did to Max, they’ll get what’s coming to them.”
An uncomfortable feeling settled in my chest, and I slapped Jackson’s hand away, then pushed to my feet and snaked my way through the party.
Hendrix had a Barrington girl on the kitchen island, his lips at her neck while he groped her boobs. That was a stinging reminder that every girl—every girl, wanted the bad boy, and that was driven home monumentally the moment I glanced through the large floor-to-ceiling window at the back of the house and spotted Bellamy on the pool deck with another girl. The second his eyes met mine, he yanked her into his lap, and my chest went tight. I had the very real urge to shove her into the pool and kick him in the nuts. Crazy, crazy, crazy. Screw him.