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)
“Asshole!” He placed his arm around my shoulder on his way back to the living room. “Tell me you didn’t throw away my weed, Roe?”
“I panicked!”
He pressed a condescending kiss to my forehead. “You’re so fucking cute.”
“All right, Al Capone.”
* * *
Days had passed since the encounter with Jacobs—days since I’d stolen the Challenger. The kid had finally stopped texting me after a few clipped responses, and I’d told my boss at The White Rabbit to shove it. The morning sun crept in through the window, and I rolled over, glancing at Zepp’s sleeping form. He was almost cute in sleep, innocent, though I knew that was far from the truth. I didn’t want to wake him, so I grabbed my phone and started scrolling. After a few minutes, I checked my email, my pulse beating a little faster when I saw the message from two days ago.
It was from The Elizabeth Roux School of Art. My stomach knotted when I opened it, skimming over the body of the email:
This level of talent is always welcome at our school. We encourage and invite you to complete an application for one of our scholarships. We hope to see your exceptional work on our campus next fall.
Hope blossomed in my chest. This meant we wouldn’t have to do a long-distance relationship. Zepp could go to Elizabeth Roux while I attended Dixon. We could both get out of Dayton.
I waited until the sun’s rays inched across the bed before sliding my hand over Zepp’s stomach. Anywhere within a foot of his dick was usually enough to wake him.
He rolled over, his lips seeking out my neck on autopilot. “Hey,” he mumbled, then grabbed my hand and placed it on his hard dick. He was so predictable.
I pulled away and touched his cheek. “Wait, I have something to tell you.”
“Okay…” He caught my wrist again, putting my hand down his boxers, this time with a smile. “You can still talk with your hand on my dick.”
“Fine,” I sighed. “So, I sent an email to an art school in Florida.” I gave him a pump. “And they want you to apply for a scholarship.”
His expression went blank for a second before the dark storm clouds rolled in. “You did what?”
I stilled, suddenly unsure of myself. “This is a good thing… Right?”
A deep line sank between his brows, and he grabbed my hand, yanking it away from him before he sat up in bed. He had never taken my hand off his dick before. Shit.
“You sent them one of my pictures? Why the hell would you do that?”
I was so confused. “I mean, a picture of a picture. It’s not—”
“I don’t give a shit. Those are personal, Monroe!” He threw the covers off, getting out of bed and dragging an agitated hand through his unruly hair.
“And if you get a scholarship?”
“If I wanted a scholarship, don’t you think I would have applied for one myself.” He glared at me, anger mixed with hurt. “I’m not stupid. I know I’m good enough.”
“Then why don’t you want it?” My anger and frustration spilled out. He was so unbelievably talented. And his aspirations amounted to this. To Dayton.
“Why the hell would I want to go to college?” He paced for a second.
“Why wouldn’t you, if someone offered you a full ride?”
His nostrils flared, fists clenched. “Because I don’t want to fucking go. If I did, I would take care of it myself.”
A sinking feeling settled in my gut. Zepp was going to stay in Dayton. The very place I was so desperate to get away from. More than that, though, he had an opportunity to do something he loved, and to be with me, to get out of here. And he didn’t want any of it.
“I can’t believe you did that.” He shook his head.
“Really?” I got out of bed, turning my back on him while I got dressed.
He had pissed me off, but more than that, I was disappointed, and I didn’t want him to see it. I went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth. Seconds later, and he was standing at the toilet, pissing.
“I can’t believe you would just take the liberty to. Damn, Roe.”
I spat into the sink and glared at him in the mirror. “Take the liberty to what? Give a shit?”
“That’s not giving a shit, Monroe. That’s wanting me to be someone I’m not.” He shook his dick before flushing the toilet and storming out.
Is that what I was doing? Did I want to change him? I didn’t think so, but evidently, he did. How did this go so wrong? I really thought he’d be happy.
His bedroom door slammed shut, loud music cut on, and I made my way downstairs. Zepp and I always went to school together. But instead of waiting on him, I grabbed my backpack and my keys, and I left alone.