Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
A few minutes later, Kingsley settles next to me with his tray. The way his muscular thigh brushes against mine sends a thousand little tingles cascading down my spine. Without realizing it, my body has become highly attuned to his. I used to wonder if anyone else could make me feel this way. Deep down, I already know the answer.
When Everly pulls out the sandwich from her brown paper bag, I do the same, nibbling at the PB and J Mrs. Fieber packed this morning. On the way out the door, she handed over a homemade protein bar, fresh squeezed orange juice in a travel mug, along with my lunch.
After a couple of minutes, Kingsley grumbles in my ear, “You need to eat.”
“I don’t have much of an appetite.” There is too much ricocheting around in my brain. Too many decisions that need to be made. Too much that hangs precariously in the balance. And all of it weighs heavily on me.
When I don’t immediately dig into my meal, he picks up a fry from his plate and holds it to my lips. Embarrassed by the attention, I keep them pressed stubbornly together. Instead of withdrawing, he arches a brow and stares me down. Since we both know that I won’t win in a battle of wills, I open my mouth a fraction. It’s carefully that he presses the thin cut of potato between my lips.
All too easily, I become trapped in his mahogany-colored gaze. And just like that, everyone around us fades into nothingness.
After the fry disappears, his fingers brush against my lips.
As I chew and swallow, Kingsley closes the distance between us so that only I am privy to his whispered words. “Good girl.”
The low sound of his voice scrapes something deep inside me, sparking arousal in my core. I can only liken it to the strike of a matchstick that ignites an inferno in my panties.
For the next ten minutes, he patiently feeds me until I finally say, “Enough.” It only makes me realize how little I’ve been consuming for my belly to fill so easily.
“Damn girl, that was smoking hot,” Everly murmurs in my ear, knocking me out of the sexual haze that had slyly wrapped its way around me. This boy is completely dangerous.
“Hi, Kingsley.”
My belly sinks at the sound of Sloane’s flirty voice. One flick of my eyes tells me that the blond girl has sidled up to the table with her minions in tow. His gaze stays fastened on me as he grunts out an unintelligible response.
When Kingsley says nothing more, she glances at the other boys crowded onto the benches. “Hey.”
There’s a chorus of greetings and a few chin lifts in return. The corners of my lips twitch as Everly rolls her eyes with abandon.
“Just in case you haven’t heard, Aubrey’s parents are out of town for the weekend and she’s having people over Saturday night.” Sloane flips her long blond hair over her shoulder before cocking a hip. “I hope you’ll be there.”
She glances at everyone before her attention settles on Kingsley. It’s painfully obvious that Sloane has feelings for him. It’s also equally apparent that he doesn’t return them. And if there’s anyone that she blames for that, it’s me.
“Nah, probably not,” he says offhandedly, “but thanks for the invite.”
Before she can convince him otherwise, one of the football players pipes up. “Hey, what about me? Am I invited?”
“Doubtful.” She smirks at the guy, giving him a coy look from beneath the thick fringe of her lashes. “But maybe I’ll let you convince me otherwise.” Her gaze flickers between the now grinning guy and the boy sitting next to me.
“Go for it, Axel,” Kingsley interjects. “She needs to find someone else to obsess over.”
A punch of color stains Sloane’s cheeks.
“Kingsley,” I mutter with an elbow to his ribs. He grumbles in response but says nothing more.
“Hey, I got an idea, we can tag team her,” an obnoxious voice shouts from somewhere down the table. “I heard you’re into that, Carmichael!”
Everly’s eyes widen at that bit of news.
I’m surprised when Duke rises from the bench and glares at the guys who are joking around at Sloane’s expense. “Shut the fuck up and leave her alone, dickhead.”
Most girls would be in tears, but not Sloane. Instead, a wicked smile curves her lips. “Maybe I am, but you sure as hell won’t be finding out.”
Um, wow.
With a flounce, the blonde swings away from the table as her cronies fall in line behind her. As the guys go back to their conversations, I give Duke a considering look. Why would he stick up for Sloane? I didn’t realize they were friends. I’ve never seen them speak two words to each other. Everly’s brows pinch together as if she’s trying to figure out the same thing.