Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 91560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
And as always, my insides go hot when I find her. Like the sight of her strawberry blonde curls turns the knob on my internal thermostat up to the highest setting, leaving me boiling. I know the smart thing to do. What I should do if I don’t want to end up hating myself—and her—more than ever.
Instead of minding my business and going straight to class, like I was about to do, I change course and follow the pair of guys now trailing behind Maya. I’ve got to give her a little bit of credit, at least. She walks with her head high, like she doesn’t hear them. Like nothing can touch her. That attitude pisses me off, maybe more than anything else, when I’m the one she’s ignoring but makes me respect her a little bit now.
Just a little bit. Not enough to change my opinion of her or anything like that.
“I wanna see those titties in person. Shove my face between them.” One of the assholes between me and Maya elbows the other, laughing like he just made the funniest joke imaginable. Like there’s anything original in what he said.
“You could make some real money on Only Fans,” the other one suggests, which stirs laughter from a group of kids hanging out on the lawn. Now there are people paying attention, listening and whistling in appreciation. The warm, sunny day suddenly feels darker. Colder.
Not me, though. I’m hotter than ever inside, burning up, ready to boil over. “If you can’t get a real pair of tits to play with, that sounds like a personal problem,” I call out to the guys in front of me, both of whom look behind them in confusion.
“And you sound like you know a lot about Only Fans,” I add, coming to a stop when they do. “How much money do you spend on there every month? I bet you go to strip clubs and think the dancers actually like you.”
Now there’s fresh laughter, only this time it’s at their expense. A glance over their shoulders tells me Maya took advantage of the situation and kept walking. She’s gone by the time the losers who were taunting her skulk off with their heads hanging. Assholes. They’re lucky I took so much aggression out on that heavy bag yesterday.
“Hey.” I hear her call out to me from outside the liberal arts building, where she lingers in a partially secluded nook put in place for smokers. Most of the students don’t smoke nowadays—or if they do, they vape rather than using cigarettes—so the area is empty except for Maya. She’s sitting on a bench beside an ashtray, her hands clasped between her knees. Funny how I never used to think much about the way she always wears pants or long skirts. Now, knowing what I know, it’s obvious she’s been hiding something all along.
Hiding herself, too, trying to keep from being taunted before class. “Do you plan on running in right before class starts?” I ask, eyeing the area to make sure nobody’s paying attention.
“What if I do?” she counters before softening, blowing out a sigh. “I just wanted to thank you for distracting those pricks back there. It meant a lot.”
Red flags wave like crazy in my head. This can’t happen. I can’t have her feeling indebted to me. “Yeah, well, don’t read into it,” I tell her with a smirk. “I already told Tiana to leave you the fuck alone, because if anybody’s going to fuck with you, it’s going to be me. I still believe that, though I don’t have to explain myself to random assholes like those guys back there.”
Watching her face fall is a real treat. The ache in my knuckles doesn’t feel half as strong as it did a minute ago. Like her disappointment is a balm.
“Oh,” she whispers, brows drawing together. “Message received.”
“Whatever.” I sigh, scoffing, before walking away. I don’t feel like having people see us talking and reading more into it than there is. They wouldn’t understand even if I tried to explain, which I’ll never do.
Fuck. I can’t understand it myself. The way I need to hate her.
12
MAYA
“You look lovely tonight.” Dad insists on walking arm in arm with me through the restaurant doors. Always, it’s about what other people think. How they perceive us. And right now, the people seated closest to where we enter perceive us as a doting father and his smiling daughter. If they looked closer, they would notice how my smile is a little too hard. Forced. Painful. But nobody ever looks that close, do they? Not even my father.
I have to wonder if he would care, even if he did look closer. But he’s not capable of that. He’s too busy thinking about himself, adjusting his silk necktie discreetly while waiting for the hostess to flag down our server.