Series: Torn and Bound Duet Series by K. Webster
Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
It pissed me off so bad.
I sent a shit-ton of threatening texts back to Travis. I told him to stay the fuck away from my friends. He never responded back. As the movie starts, I pull my phone out to check the text. I’m thankful it’s just a text from Mia. Sure enough, she’s cuddled up with Drew and they took a smiling selfie. Fucking cute.
I’ll be damned if I let Travis hurt Drew. Drew deserves to have friends and a fucking boyfriend. Travis threatening to tattle on him pisses me off.
“Our turn,” I murmur to Bray. I hold my phone up. “Pretend you’re sucking my dick.”
He laughs. “Nice try.”
We settle for just cheesing for the camera and then I send the pic. I shove the phone away, willing my nerves to settle. My leg bounces up and down. This time, when Brayden settles his palm on my thigh to calm me, I relax.
“You okay?” he asks, his breath hot and close to my ear.
All I can do is nod.
“Good.” He presses a kiss to my neck and then settles back in his seat.
Stupid, hot, affectionate fucker.
I somehow manage to make it through the entire movie without losing my mind. By the time we’re stepping outside, the assault of the icy wind has all the heat from his subtle, innocent touches pushed away. It’s cold as fuck outside. I wish I’d worn my big coat and not just my leather jacket. I shove my hands in my pockets and complain the whole way back to my car.
As soon as we reach it, I screech to a halt. “What the fuck?”
“Someone slashed your tires,” Brayden growls, his tone dripping with fury. “Who the fuck would do that?”
I grit my teeth as I squat to inspect the damage. “Fucking Travis.”
“I’m going to kill him,” Brayden seethes. “I hate that guy. Call your dad. Get that asshole kicked out of school!”
And risk Travis showing that video to him?
Fuck no.
“It’s fine. It’s just tires,” I grumble.
“He vandalized your car, Ashton,” he snaps. “He’s already framed you for drug possession, tried to poison you with bleach, and put his fucking hands on you! I’ll be damned if I let him hurt you anymore!”
I grab his coat, jerking him to me. “I can handle it.”
His brown eyes flash with murderous intent. “Apparently not because you let this piece of shit walk all over you!”
I shove him away from me. “You don’t understand.”
“Then make me,” he bellows.
Ignoring him, I lean my ass against the car and text Mia to let her know we need them to pick us up. I don’t give her the details so she won’t worry. Just a vague “car trouble” is all I wrote. I’m just pocketing my phone when snow slams into my chest.
“You can’t ignore me,” Brayden says, bending to ball up more snow.
He launches another snowball at me, nailing me in the forehead. Oh, it’s on now, buddy. I start chucking snowballs at him as fast as I can make them. We go from pissed off to laughing as we chase each other between cars. I get stuck in a snow drift up against a storefront, slowing me down enough that Brayden’s able to tackle me. We roll around on the snow until the brute fucker has me pinned. Our breathing is heavy and we’re both grinning.
Reminders of that night in the locker room filter through my mind.
The fight. The taunt. The kiss.
My self-destructive ass kissed him and sent my world exploding around me. I won’t make that mistake again. But… something feels different about our proximity now. There’s no anger or jealousy or confusion. Just two friends. Enjoying each other. My heart races in my chest, slowing to a stop when he pulls his beanie off his head.
“You’re cold,” he murmurs, shoving it down over my head. His eyes grow sad, making my chest tighten in response.
It’s not the first time I’ve seen him do this.
“What’s up with the beanies?” I ask, frowning at him.
His eyes slam closed. “You just looked cold.”
“Brayden,” I rumble. “Talk to me.”
He lets out a heavy sigh before meeting my stare. “I don’t know. I guess I just think that since I couldn’t save him, I could save others. Maybe if he’d been dressed warmer…” He trails off, his eyes watering. “Maybe he would have lived.”
When we were at Brayden’s for dinner, where I met his parents, his dad let on that they’d lost their son when he was nine. Sad as fuck. I didn’t realize how badly it eats up Brayden until now.
“You can’t save everyone,” I murmur.
“I should have saved him.” He falls against me, his face against my neck. “I should have saved him.”
I can’t help but hug him because he feels like he’s breaking apart. Maybe I can hold him together.