Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
“WHAT!” she screeches, feigning a gasp. “Did I hear you right or am I having a stroke? Zoey James is voluntarily coming to a party? It’s a miracle.”
I roll my eyes but can’t help the smirk that pulls at my lips. “Yes,” I groan. “Can you pick me up or not?”
“Of course, girl,” she sings. “We’re leaving in ten. Cora’s driving, but fair warning, Abby and I already had a few shots, so you’re going to have to play catch up.”
Unlikely. “Sure.”
“I’ll text when we’re outside.” Tarni doesn’t wait for a goodbye or even a confirmation that I heard her before ending the call, but that’s nothing new. She’s been like that since the moment she got her first phone.
Realizing just how little time I have, I rush to get ready, opting for a black cropped tank with a high-waisted miniskirt and a pair of black suede thigh-high boots that make me feel like a sexy goddess.
I style my hair into a half-up half-down look and put a little makeup on, trying to replicate the look Hazel created for the last party I went to, and if I had the time, I probably would have begged her to do it for me. Happy with how I look, I dash downstairs and spend my last few minutes shoveling food down my throat before Tarni texts that they’re outside.
Saying a quick goodbye to Mom and Aunt Maya, I hurry outside to find Cora’s Lexus waiting in my driveway. I dart across the lawn before scrambling into the backseat to a chorus of whoops and applause, each of them putting on a performance of how shocked they are to see me.
Rolling my eyes, I settle into my seat before pulling out my phone.
Zoey: YOU TOLD YOUR MOM!!!!!!!! What the hell is wrong with you? They’re both crying into their wine.
Resident Asshole: Ah shit. I knew I forgot to tell you something.
Zoey: Wait. What exactly did you tell her? Because I don’t even know what this is let alone how to tell someone else about it.
Resident Asshole: Come to think of it, I didn’t really say anything. Mom just kinda worked it out then made her own assumptions.
Zoey: Great. Just what I need!
Resident Asshole: My offer still stands. We could bail on dinner. I’ll swing by and pick you up…you know, assuming you have enough self-control to keep your hands off me.
Zoey: I bailed on dinner ages ago. I’m already on my way.
Zoey: And for the record, keeping my hands off you is going to be a breeze. It’s you I’m worried about, Mr. Follow Me Into My Closet And Throw Me Up Against The Wall.
Resident Asshole: I’m shocked, Zoey James. Were you even going to tell me or were you hoping I’d show up to dinner and have to sit through it by myself?
Resident Asshole: You think I can’t control myself?
Zoey: I know you can’t!
Resident Asshole: Challenge accepted. May the best player win.
Zoey: I intend to.
Pulling up at the party, my stomach swirls with butterflies at the idea of getting to see him again, though it’s ridiculous. It’s not as though I’m actually going to spend time with him. It’ll be another night of stolen glances across the room, pretending my stomach doesn’t do all kinds of flip-flops whenever he looks my way.
I don’t know what he was thinking by offering to pick me up. Was he planning to kick me out halfway down the street and then pretend we didn’t arrive together? I wouldn’t have argued if he wanted to just skip the party altogether and just keep driving.
Abby slips her arm through mine as we make our way up to the party, dodging the people lingering out front. “Whose place is this?” I ask, looking up at the massive home, which is definitely far too big for any of the students at East View. “I don’t think I’ve been here before.”
“Lucas Maxwell’s,” Abby beams as a crack of thunder booms through the sky, making us all jump and then immediately break into laughter at the way it frightened us. “His dad is loaded, and he’s never here, so Lucas throws parties all the time. How did you not know that?”
I shrug my shoulders, but Tarni throws a response in before I get a chance. “Probably because Zoey is allergic to fun,” she laughs, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the front door as the first few drops of rain fall. “Come on, we’ve gotta get you drunk before you realize what’s happening and decide to leave.”
Rolling my eyes, I let her drag me in through the door, but I have no desire to get drunk. I’m definitely okay to have one or two, but I drank so much at the last party that I couldn’t even fight off the asshole who thought it was okay to get handsy with me. If Noah hadn’t been there . . . I don’t want to think about it.