The Wallflower (Ruthless Disciples #1) Read Online J.L. Beck

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, College, Dark, Sports, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Ruthless Disciples Series by J.L. Beck
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Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 127146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
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I adjust the strap of my backpack and hustle the rest of the way to my car. Fear makes us do crazy things, and with my mind occupied by that jock and his crazy-as-hell antics, I fail to notice the person coming toward me and bump shoulders with them. It takes a second to steady myself, and I nearly sigh with relief when I recognize her familiar face.

"Jackie, what the hell?"

She lets out a small laugh, rubbing her arm where I hit her. "You plowed into me harder than my last date did. What the hell are you running away from?" She flicks her blond hair over her shoulder, tilting her head at me in question. The sun glints off her high cheekbones, shining across her deep blue eyes, making them glow like sapphires.

I don’t dare tell her what happened back in the library. Jackie’s the type that would tell me to go back inside and get his number. But I’m still glad to see her. Since day one, we’ve been friends and roommates, and she gives me balance when I need it.

I risk a glance behind me, then shake my head. “Nothing really, just stayed too long at the library. You know how I get immersed in my studies sometimes.”

She nods and smiles. "Let's get some dinner, and I can share with you the good news I got. I promise, you’ll want to hear it.”

I shouldn’t, but I take another peek behind me. The feeling of someone watching me lingers at the nape of my neck. When I look back, there are just normal students. No oversized assholes loom in the shadows. Then why do I still feel his eyes on me? I shiver and turn toward my car.

“Oh boy, I’m not sure I want to hear this,” I joke. “Let me drop my bag off in the car, and I’ll come with you.” Her gaze scans my oversized bag.

“Doesn’t that kill your shoulder? I mean, there’s probably at least fifteen or twenty pounds worth of books in there.” She’s wrong, there’s actually twenty-five, but I don’t correct her. I don’t want to make myself look any more of a nerd than I already do.

“It’s easier to do it this way than having to go back and forth to the dorms or back and forth to my car,” I say over my shoulder as I cross the remaining distance to my car. I unlock it and toss the heavy-as-hell bag inside. It lands with a hearty thump, ripping a little more. I sigh. "Oh, by the way, I have to go to my mom's after dinner.”

Jackie frowns, and even though she knows I don’t have an option, I can’t blame her for being sad. We hardly ever hang out anymore, and if we do, it’s only for a few minutes. I’m a terrible friend, I know, but I can’t do shit about it. Life’s got me in a chokehold I can’t seem to escape.

Her frown gives way to something mischievous, and she rubs her hands together gleefully as I return to her side. We start walking back in the direction of the cafeteria. “Oh good, that means I can bring any guy I want back to the dorm, and we can run around naked, have sex on the counters, maybe even on your bed too."

I scowl. "Ew, no, that's unsanitary. I don't want your bare ass or any other bodily fluids on my bedding."

“Oh, come on, Bel! It’s not like your bed is seeing any action.” I know it’s a joke, and she’s playing with me, but it still stings. She realizes her mistake, and her features pinch with remorse. “Okay, that was mean. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s not like it isn’t true.” I shrug, and thankfully, the cafeteria doors come into view. I hate discussing my love life or lack thereof.

“I know, but I also know you’re taking care of your mom, and that’s your main priority right now. There will be plenty of time for men in the future.” She smiles, and I nod, wanting the conversation to end there.

It’s bad enough my mother reminds me almost daily that I should be doing other more productive college kid things instead of taking care of her. I want to be there for my mom, but she insists I focus on my life. Except it achieves the opposite effect she wants—I worry more and more until my mind becomes a web of inescapable, haunting thoughts that I’m not doing enough for her. That I might lose her. I swallow thickly.

The double doors to the cafeteria open, and we’re blasted with warm air as Jackie and I step inside.

The dinner rush is in full swing. The chatter of fellow students and clinking silverware rattles my eardrums. Anxiousness rests deep in my gut. I hate crowds and loud noises. Usually, I come here before lunch or right after dinner to beat the crowds. Mr. Psycho distracted me, and I forgot what time it was. Jackie weaves through the masses, and I follow her closely until we reach the other side of the room where the trays are located.


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