Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 93312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
“Umm…” A feminine voice snaps me out of it. “Who is she?” she asks Thayer.
“No one.” He says the words casually, but I know they’re meant to hurt me. And they do.
“Can I talk to you for a second?”
Holden’s eyes shoot open at the sound of my voice before narrowing mischievously. Christian ignores my presence altogether as he pretends to listen to something Chris Baker says.
“Talk,” Thayer says, his fingers continuing their path on her bare thigh.
I swallow hard, trying to look away.
“Alone?” I try again.
“As you can see, I’m busy.”
I almost walk away. It’s clear this won’t end well. But I stay, determined to say my piece and get it over with. I shift nervously on my feet, uncertainty pricking my spine.
“Just because our parents aren’t together, doesn’t mean we can’t be—”
“What, friends?” Thayer cuts me off with a bitter laugh. “Is that what you were about to say?”
That isn’t what I was going to say—not in those words, anyway—but everything sounds so…generic. He stands abruptly, the girl on his lap tumbling to the ground with a shocked yelp, but he doesn’t so much as spare her a glance. He gets in my space, close enough that prying eyes and ears won’t hear his next words.
“We’re not friends. We’re not anything.”
“My mistake,” I say, shaking my head. He’s right. I don’t recognize this cold version of him at all.
I don’t know why I look to Holden for his reaction; it’s not like I’d get any backup from him. But he was my friend once, too. He’s staring at me with silent amusement painted across his features as the girl in his lap continues her assault on his neck. Disgusting.
“Run along now, Shayne. This isn’t your home anymore.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “I can see that.”
Turning around, I make my way to the opposite side of the beach that leads into an open wooded area. I catch Valen’s concerned eyes across the fire, and she stands up like she’s going to come over, but I give a slight shake of my head, letting her know I’m fine.
“You’re back,” a deep voice coming from my left says. I turn around to find Aiden standing there in a black shirt and fitted jeans. I have to admit, he isn’t awful to look at with his dark, curly hair, full lips, and light brown eyes.
“Yep.” I stuff my hands into my back pockets.
“What was that about?”
“High school politics,” I say. “Apparently, I’ve been demoted.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it. How’ve you been?”
I frown, trying to figure out his motive. I don’t know why he’s talking to me when I’ve been all but declared a pariah. It’s not like he hasn’t noticed. Looking around to see if anyone’s taken notice to us, I spot Taylor and Alexis scowling in our direction. “We have an audience,” I whisper conspiratorially. “You probably shouldn’t be caught talking to me.”
He scrapes his teeth across his bottom lip to bite back a smile. “I don’t give a fuck. I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because you no longer have a small army of guys cockblocking any and every potential suitor.”
He says it as a joke, but it only serves as a reminder of how much things have changed. Not that I think there was any actual cockblocking happening.
“Shit, wrong thing to say.”
“No, it’s fine.” I wave him off.
I glance over at Thayer once more, unable to resist getting another look at him. He’s staring right at me, the warmth that I usually see in his eyes nowhere to be found.
Suddenly, I feel the urge to bail. I don’t want to be here anymore. I consider asking Valen for a ride home, but she’s currently lip-locked with Liam, and I can’t bring myself to ruin her night. She doesn’t get to see him as much with him living at the dorms.
“Hey, are you sober?” I ask Aiden.
“As a judge.”
“Feel like giving a girl a ride home?”
“Only if we can get some food first.”
“Sold.”
After I tell Valen that Aiden is going to take me home, she reluctantly agrees to stay. We hop into Aiden’s lifted black truck and he turns to look at me.
“Any requests?”
“Pizza,” I say without hesitation.
“Say no more. There’s a bomb-ass pizza place in Haverhill.”
He throws the truck into drive, heading down the winding, narrow path that leads to the main road. It’s easy to talk to Aiden. He’s cocky and witty, but respectful, and not too pushy. After we split a large pepperoni pizza and a pitcher of Pepsi, I feel stuffed. And in slightly better spirits than earlier.
“I’m so full,” I groan, leaning my head back against the booth.
“That mean you’re not going to eat that?” he asks, flicking his chin at the last piece on the silver pizza tray.
“It’s all you.” I laugh.
Aiden folds the slice in half, devouring it in two bites, dusts his hands, then stands. “Ready to go?”