Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
My indignation bubbled to the surface. I flipped Zepp off and diverted my attention to the guy walking past Bellamy’s car, heading straight for the Challenger.
“I swear to God, woman,” Zepp practically growled.
Asshole.
The kid was only a few feet away. He had one of those preppy Barrington haircuts, but instead of the standard collared shirts, he had on a Yoda T-shirt. He definitely had to be one of Barrington’s geeks.
He froze when he noticed me in the shadows, then slowly put his key into the door.
“Nice car,” I said. When I stepped into the light from the streetlamp overhead, he dropped his keys.
“Uh.” He cleared his throat, fumbling to pick them up and adjusting his glasses when he straightened. “Thanks.”
“Maybe we could hang out sometime.” I placed my back against the car parked beside his, keeping an eye on Zepp.
Psycho Sally stood halfway between Bellamy’s car and me, a glare fixed on his face that might have worried me at one time.
“You could take me for a ride?” I said, flicking my attention back to Yoda.
His eyes went wide, mouth gaping. “S-sure.”
“Great. I’ll give you my number.”
He fumbled with the phone before I typed in a name and number, then walked off with a little wave.
Straight toward Zepp, his arms crossed, jaw tense.
“You are stubborn as fuck,” he said, falling in step beside me as we approached the Civic.
“Don’t act like you don’t like it.”
We hadn’t made it to Bellamy’s car before my phone beeped.
Unknown: Hey. This is my number. I’d really like to hang out with you.
Zepp stopped and snatched my phone from my hands. The jealousy rippled across his face like a rogue wave. “You did not give him your phone number.”
I snatched it back. “Not like I’m gonna fuck him, Zepp.”
“I don’t give a shit.” He pointed an angry finger behind us. “He thinks you’re going to.”
“But, I’m not.” I slid my hand over his chest, brushing my lips over his jaw. “Haven’t we been over this? I’m never going to fuck anyone but you.”
That seemed to appease the beast. The tension on his face softened—enough, and we climbed into the back seat of the car. “Never, huh?”
I stumbled for a second. I’d said that. Never. “As long as you behave,” I said, skirting around the subject.
His gaze drifted to my lips before his mouth met mine. “I can sure as shit try.” Zepp deepened the kiss, then suddenly pulled away. “What the hell, Bell? Don’t throw shit at me!”
“Don’t be trying to fuck in my backseat then! It took a steamer to get that jizz stain out your dumbass brother left in here.”
I eyed the front seat. “Eww! Now I feel like I might get pregnant from the upholstery.”
Jade looked over at me. “Really? This is going on”—she placed a palm up and circled it at us—“and you think the seat is gonna get you knocked up.”
Bellamy cranked the engine and shifted into drive, pointing through the windshield. “Where the hell is he coming from?”
Hendrix sprinted across the parking lot. And not from the direction of the football field but from the woods at the back of the stadiums—wearing Barrington’s number twenty-seven jersey. He yanked open the front door and threw himself in, just as the red and blue flash of police sirens appeared at the end of the road. They whizzed past us before taking a screeching turn into the school parking lot.
“Drive, dipshit!” Hendrix yelled, banging his fist over the back of the seat in front of him. “Drive.”
“Jesus,” Bellamy said, pulling away
Hendrix tugged at the jersey. “This smells like shit. You’d think with all that money they could buy better cologne.”
“I’m curious,” I said. “Did you just knock him out and start stripping him in the middle of the field?” The imagery was entertaining.
“I got so excited,” he panted. “I think I blacked out.” Hendrix was possibly a little insane.
By the time we pulled into Zepp’s drive, the entire car reeked of body odor and feet from that damn jersey, which Hendrix refused to toss out the window. He claimed it was a trophy. How he managed to get into a fight full of football players and come out without a scratch, I’d never know.
Jade glanced over at me for a second before looking at Zepp. “Is Wolf coming back here?”
Hendrix spun around in the front seat. “Why do you give a shit about that dumpy fuck?” He snaked a hand down his body, rubbing over his crotch. “I got what you need right here, baby.” He tossed his head back on a cackle before opening the car door.
I looked at Jade. “Just so you know, I approve of neither. They probably have enough STDs to stock a lab…”
She frowned at me. “Again. You’re screwing Zepp.”
Zepp climbed out, ducking his head to glare at Jade. “I’m clean as a fucking whistle. I get tested on the regular.”