Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
“RJ? With the wife. Where else?”
“Your stepbrother sucks,” comes Duke’s snide voice.
We turn to find him striding into the lounge with a beer in hand. Nobody even tries to hide contraband from our housefather anymore. Mr. Swinney knows he has a better chance of reining in a herd of wild horses.
Duke throws himself into a leather armchair, swiveling it so he can see the pool table. “And he sucks at ruling the school.”
I roll my eyes. “Jesus fuck. This again?”
“Dude, I think it’s time to get a therapist,” Fenn tells him. “Enough already.”
“Everyone knows I’m right. They don’t want to admit it, but they miss me. You know it’s true.”
Fenn shrugs. “Yeah? Maybe if you’re nice to him, he’ll give you the job back. Not like he ever wanted it.”
“Fuck that. I’ll get it back eventually.” Duke lifts his beer to his lips and takes a long swig.
“I say you challenge the fucker to a rematch.” Duke’s lackey Carter twists around on the couch, throwing his unwanted two cents into the conversation.
As I chalk my cue, I give Carter a little smirk, which he pretends not to see. Carter’s been deep in the closet since I’ve known him, only emerging now and then to get on his knees for me after swim practice. I like him a lot better when his mouth is otherwise occupied.
“He’s too chickenshit to fight me twice,” Duke says. “He knows the first time was a fluke.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Fenn says before bending forward to send a striped ball into the corner pocket.
“Holy shit, we totally should’ve gone to Ballard tonight,” someone blurts out. A couple of seniors are sprawled on the far couch, and one just shot up in a sitting position, jaw gaping as he stares at his phone.
“What is it?” His buddy leans in trying to see the screen.
“Check out this TikTok of the headmaster’s little girl dirty dancing with some chick.”
“Sloane?”
“Dude, no. Fuckin’ Casey Tresscott—”
The cue in Fenn’s hand hits the floor before the guy even finishes saying Casey’s name. In a blur, Fenn is across the room and snatching the phone out of his hand.
“Yo, what the hell, man.”
“Shut up,” Fenn snaps.
As he watches the video, I lean my cue against the table and walk up to peek over his shoulder. From the phone, the tinny sound of music and incoherent shouting fills the room.
It’s tough to make out exactly what’s happening in the grainy video. I glimpse Casey’s face and some guy all over her. Another girl’s in the mix too.
I squint at the screen. “I think that’s Mila?”
“And Oliver,” Fenn growls.
A second later, he chucks the phone against the wall.
“Hey, asshole!” the senior objects.
“Come see me,” I quickly appease the guy, because I can tell Fenn’s in no state to deal with a confrontation right now. “I’ll take care of you.”
Fenn charges up to Duke with his hand out. “Keys. I need to borrow your ride.”
“What’s in it for me?”
“Not getting murdered,” I offer with a grin.
Rolling his eyes, Duke stands up and digs into his pocket. He pulls out a set of keys, but rather than hand them to Fenn, he smirks. “I’m driving.”
I snort softly. “Well, this’ll be fun.”
CHAPTER 30
FENN
THE PARTY’S IN FULL SWING WHEN WE STRIDE UP. AND WITHIN five seconds of our arrival, we draw attention. Chicks come over offering smiles and lingering hugs. Soccer team guys slap mine and Duke’s shoulders, offering fist bumps. Old friends and acquaintances shout their hellos.
I ignore them all and scan the crowd for Casey. The video had shown her in the shadows, so I search the darkness where most of the dancing is going on. Dark figures grinding against each other, barely visible.
Duke pokes me in the arm. “She’s over there.”
I follow his gaze and my shoulders go ramrod stiff. She’s still dancing with Oliver, though Mila is nowhere to be seen now. Casey’s back is flush to his massive chest, her arms raised and moving to the beat of the pop song blasting out of someone’s portable speakers. The bonfire provides enough heat that nobody’s even wearing their coats, and a lot of the girls here are clad in skimpy tank tops. To my relief, Casey’s in a long-sleeve sweater and jeans. But with the way she’s rubbing her body all over Oliver, she might as well be naked.
My fingers curl into tight fists as I watch the most important person to me dance with another dude. As if sensing my presence, Casey’s head lifts and those blue eyes suddenly collide with mine. Then they ignite in a fire of anger and resentment.
Scowling at me, she spins around so her back is to me. She rests her hands on Oliver’s broad shoulders and shakes her hips, and it takes all my willpower not to march over there and wrench her away from him.