Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“I get it. Well, actually, I don’t get it at all. That sounds like a strange setup.”
“Yeah,” I say, but that’s as much as I’m willing to share, and Jonas is wise enough not to ask questions. Who knows. Maybe Simon already told him the reason.
Jonas and I break for lunch together—again, not by mistake. I tell myself it’s to interrogate him, but part of me can’t deny that regardless of what happened between Kieran and me, I like being around a familiar face that reminds me of a time when Hawthorne Heights was buzzing with energy and life. Back when there was laughter and play. When we lived in the bliss of our ignorance…our innocence.
But it also reminds me of when it all went wrong.
My sin and the horror that followed.
Why it’s my duty to remain here and maintain what little life our home—Simon’s home—still has.
Jonas sits close to me, as he does for all our meals, like he’s trying to get a read of me as much as I am of him.
“So…you seeing anyone?” he asks before taking a bite of his burrito.
“No.” My reply is curter than intended, but hopefully sends the message that this isn’t a subject I’m interested in getting into.
“Oh, okay. I imagine it’s hard to meet anyone out here.”
His use of anyone isn’t lost on me. If Forsyth or Morgan had brought that up, they would have just said girls.
I wonder if Simon outed me. Not that it’s a big secret. But like any true-blood Hawthorne, I don’t like people knowing my business unless I want them to.
There’s an awkward stretch of silence, something I’ve learned makes Jonas particularly uncomfortable, which I can’t really relate to. I enjoy the quiet.
“You have any recommendations for where I might go around here if I did want to meet someone?”
Someone? Why is he being intentionally vague?
My gaze shifts to him, and he’s looking right at me. I can’t make eye contact with my brother’s eyes for long before looking away.
“Are you asking if there are any bars or clubs around here?” I take a bite from Nell’s nachos.
“Yeah, like places you’d go to really let loose. Meet people. I don’t know, do you use like apps or something? Sorry to ask, but I’m used to having more access to stuff like that in Chicago.”
It’s suspicious that he’s asking me about this when he could have just as easily asked Forsyth or Morgan.
Is this what Simon wants him to do? Check up on my dating life? Why would he need a man who looks like Kieran to do that?
“I don’t think you’re gonna find much on an app out here,” I say. “Not unless someone is traveling at least half an hour, and I’m sure Simon mentioned you can’t have visitors as long as you’re staying here.”
“Yeah, yeah. He did. I only meant, maybe I could get them to come pick me up or I could Uber over to them.”
“Be ready for a very long wait on an Uber. Maybe you could get Forsyth to drive you into downtown Renovere. That’s about a ten-minute drive. Then you can Uber from there. It’ll be cheaper.”
“Thanks for the intel.”
“Anytime.”
Jonas is eyeing me strangely, and he hasn’t touched his burrito since he started on this subject. All I know is, I feel bad for the guy if he thought coming to Hawthorne Heights was gonna be a place where he could get laid. If anything, it’d take 10K to get someone to be this isolated.
“So you don’t have any apps on your phone?” he asks. “Like…I don’t know, Grindr or…”
He waits, as though gauging my reaction.
“…Tinder?” he adds.
Tinder wouldn’t mean much, but I don’t think it’s an accident that he brought up Grindr first, and as my gaze meets his, I’m starting to realize why he has this stiff jaw and he’s staring like that.
Is he flirting with me?
It’s so rare that I have exchanges like that anymore, I can’t help but doubt it.
And the fact that he looks like Kieran only throws me that much more.
But his gaze doesn’t let up, and I just sit there, staring at him.
“Apps? No, I don’t do anything like that,” I finally manage to say. “You know, I think this might not be an appropriate conversation for me to have with staff. Sorry, I should have interrupted it sooner. I’m technically your supervisor.”
“Right, right,” he says, then picks up his burrito again.
I’m trying to keep my cool, but I’m silently freaking out, my brain scrambling through everything that just happened. And one person keeps coming to the foreground. “Fuck,” I mutter.
Simon put this guy up to this fucked-up task. Is that what he’s here to do? Fuck me? And to get someone who looks like Kieran… The sick bastard.
I lower my hands beneath the table so Jonas doesn’t see how tight they’re clenched.