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)
“Arlo!” When I spun around, he dropped the hose and scurried back a few steps.
“That’s what Daddy does when the neighbor’s dogs start wrestling in the yard.” His nose wrinkled. “I don’t want you to wrestle with that lady. And I’mma tell Hendrix on you. He told me to tell if a lady that looked like one of the girls from Daddy’s nudey magazines came over. She looks like one of them. ‘Cause she’s pretty and got those big ole’ lips.”
I frowned. How in the hell had Arlo gotten into Dad’s stash of Playboy, and since when was my little brother selling me out for Hendrix?
I turned around as Drew climbed into that rundown SUV. The brake lights flashed, then the engine rumbled to life.
Arlo drew a line through the grass with his toe, then crossed his arms over his chest on a huff. “Why are you trying to wrestle with her, Bubba. You said she’s en-en-en-something. And that they’re the ones that poop on you.”
I scrubbed a hand over his head, the tension and anger that had been rolling through me quickly disappearing. “Right…”
“I don’t want her to poop on you.”
I watched her taillights round the corner. “Yeah. Me neither, buddy.”
And if there were ever a girl that was going to take a shit on me, it was that one.
* * *
Medusa is at 2112 Barrington Cove.
The notification came through as I pulled to a stop in front of Arlo’s friend’s house. And that meant she’d unblocked my number. Because she knew I was right—she craved this madness.
I clicked on the notification, watching that little blue dot move toward Bennett’s address. I knew, one hundred percent, I should disable this stupid app, but some sick part of me refused to let the decent part of me win that battle.
“See you later, Bubba!” Arlo threw his arms around my neck before hopping out of the car, backpack already on his shoulder.
“Wait a second!” I climbed over my center console and jogged after him up the sidewalk to the front of his friend’s house.
“You’re a helicopter brother.” He nudged me, then knocked on the door. “That’s what Jessie says.”
“Jessie’s a punk…”
The door cracked, and a woman with round glasses peeked over the chain lock. “Oh, Arlo. It’s you.” The door closed so she could unfasten the lock. And the second it swung open again, Arlo sprinted inside, tackling his friend to the carpet.
“I’ll pick him up at ten tomorrow?”
She nodded. “That’s perfect. Have a good night.” She went to close the door, but I slapped a palm over it.
“He’s allergic to Goldfish. So, no cheese crackers or cheese puffs.”
She smiled. “Okay.”
Then I went back to the car and checked my phone again. Drew was still at Jackson’s. I told myself it didn’t matter. That if she was that much of a—whatever—to screw around with me then go back to Jackson, that none of it mattered. She was just like any other girl I’d ever been with.
But by the time I pulled up to Hendrix’s house, I knew that was a lie. Because I’d checked that app two more times. And three hours later, Hendrix, Wolf, and I had Jackson hogtied in the back of Wolf’s truck, Special Delivery scribbled across his face along with a masterpiece of dicks drawn in Sharpie over his cheeks.
21
Drew
It was after midnight when I stumbled through my backyard and dodged the edge of the pool. I’d snuck out of the house and over to Olivia’s for another party—upon her insistence. Besides, what kind of rebel child would I be if I didn’t climb out my bedroom window to go and get drunk while I was grounded? I stopped below my bedroom balcony, looking up and debating how easy it would be to scale the trellis with alcohol buzzing through my veins.
I placed my hand through one of the open diamonds, and just when I was about to attempt scaling it, my phone vibrated in my bra.
Dickhead: Have fun at your boyfriend’s house?
I could practically feel the jealousy oozing through his words, and I liked it far too much. People only got jealous over things they wanted, right? Correction, he was jealous because he wanted to screw me, and he thought Jackson already had. Don’t get it twisted, Drew.
Me: Fuck you, Bellamy
I texted him back, which meant he’d now know I had unblocked him. But whatever. And why had I unblocked him? Because I’d sat in Olivia’s house, replaying the previous night on a loop and getting stuck on the same sentence over and over again. The shittiest part about this story, is that I fucking liked you. At the time, I couldn’t see past that blonde, but tonight I’d seen her, all over another guy. And then I felt guilty for allowing Bellamy to think I was dating Jackson.