Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 120134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
“Shopping.”
“With who?”
“My sister, Aisling.”
Funnily enough, I remembered his sister. His brother, too. I must’ve deleted Hunter permanently from my mind because he was a boy my age, gorgeous, and about as unattainable as planet Mars. Those things somehow made him an automatic enemy in my eyes.
“You’re going to love her. She’s appalled by everything male and fun, just like you.”
“I resent that statement.”
“You resent everything.”
Biting my tongue to keep from lashing out at him—solely because I knew I’d already gotten my vengeance for the day—I changed the subject.
“How do I know you weren’t out and about with some other girl?” I opened my eyes. He blew air through his cheeks, hiking his long, strong fingers from my foot to my ankle, kneading it in circles.
“For one thing, you’d know if I’d had sex, because I’d be rocking the after-orgasm glow.”
“I can’t believe I’m humoring this, but what does your after-orgasm glow look like?”
“I’m afraid I can’t fake it.” He winked, removing my leg from his thigh and returning it to the table gently. My heart missed one lonely beat at the loss of his touch before Hunter took my other foot and gave it the same treatment, removing my banged-up sneaker and massaging it heel to toes. “You’ll have to give me an orgasm to find out.”
“Hard pass,” I said.
He regarded me with amusement, trekking his fingers up my ankle. Silence engulfed us. Finally, he said, “Who’s gonna take care of Hunter Jr., then?”
“Your hand?” I suggested. “Or an apple pie, if you’re into cultural clichés.”
I wasn’t so hot on talking sex with Hunter—or with anyone at all, for that matter—but I didn’t want him to see how flustered I was, and he was obviously testing me. Belle and Persy would die if they heard I’d talked sex with the sex king himself. The minute I told them about my agreement with Hunter, they’d bombarded me with every piece of newsworthy gossip I’d somehow missed about my new roommate. Belle also mentioned something about wanting to ride him like a stolen bike.
“How about we strike a deal—if I play the doting saint all week and stay out of your way, I can sneak in a few fucks with a rando? I’ll have to bring her home because Da has people following me—I’ve already seen them around—but you can always help a bro out and tell the building staff they’re your friends.”
My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, the blood in my veins heating with anger. “What?”
“Oh. ’Kay.” He lifted his palms. “Not a few fucks. Just the one. Twenty minutes. But this is my final offer.”
“No,” I said.
“Fine. Ten minutes. And I’ll make sure she keeps her voice down. Now that’s my final offer.”
He was going to be a terrible businessman.
“That’s not how final offers work, and the answer is still no.”
“What?” His smile dropped. “Why not?”
“I told you, I’m taking this agreement with your dad seriously.” I stood up.
It wasn’t a good idea to let him touch me while we were negotiating. It bothered me that, just like with all the other girls, his touch disarmed me of my logic. I gathered said logic back into my arms like shattered, miniscule pieces of what used to be a solid statue, trying to rearrange my thoughts.
Hunter got up, too, towering over me. My head reached his lower pecs. I had to crane my neck to meet his gaze.
“Word?” He changed his tune from pleasant to deadly serious. “You’re going to cockblock me for real?”
At least now I knew what had inspired the massage and the Target gift card.
“It’s not like I’m going to tell Da you’re sneaking chicks up for me. It’ll be our dirty little secret.”
“I don’t want any secrets with you.” I threw my hands in the air, exploding. “I don’t want anything with you, period. Your dad is right to follow you. You’re willing to toss your future away for sex.”
“I’m not supposed to choose.” He tousled his hair, the color of forged bronze. “Why do you have to be a narc? And while we’re on the subject, why are you weird? Why archery and not, say, Zumba? What the hell is wrong with you? You’re making everything harder.”
“By being honest?” I laughed hysterically, advancing toward my room.
He chased after me, again, his steps long and feral, making my heart leap to my throat, thumping its way farther up. I couldn’t remember the last time my pulse had pounded so quickly. Hunter jumped ahead of me and blocked my way to the hallway, resting his elbows on either side of the arched passage.
“Insecurity doesn’t look good on you, kid.” He smirked, taunting.
I felt the blush creeping up from my neck to the top of my head and knew my eyes were shimmering with humiliation and rage.
“You ugly, ugly kid. Are you a boy or a girl? Oh, never mind. I’ll take what’s yours, anyway”—the words that chased me to the end of world.