Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
We step onto a moving sidewalk and come up to the terminals. I stop and walk over to one, looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows to the runway. People crowd around while cars are lined up at the end. A woman stands before them with a green flag in her hands. “What are they doing?” I ask as Jasmine comes to stand next to me.
“Racing. They do it every night.” She turns and walks off, and I follow her.
We go down an escalator and walk through the building, passing more gates until we come up to what appears to have once been a food court. Looking down over a railing, I see an arena-like structure. A makeshift bar sits off to the right, and people are crowded around it.
Two men stand in the middle of the arena, fighting. It’s not like a UFC fight. This is more of a backyard kind of fight. One guy wears a hoodie and jeans while the other is in shorts and a wifebeater. No gloves or mouth guards.
We make our way downstairs and to the bar, ordering some drinks.
“Jasmine?”
She stiffens beside me as someone from behind us calls out her name. Turning around, she leans her back against the bar. “What are you doing here?” she asks.
I look over my shoulder to see a guy walk up to her with a smile covering his handsome face. Brown eyes look her up and down while he licks his lips, like he’s thinking of the past. “Oh, my God, babe.” He reaches out to hug her.
She places her hands up, stopping him. “Go away, Trenton.” She dismisses him and turns back to the bar just as the bartender sets two drinks down in front of us.
I reach into my purse to grab a twenty, but she sets a card down. “I want to start a tab,” she tells the guy.
He nods and takes it.
“Babe?” The guy behind us continues. “I’ve been calling you.”
“Yeah? How’s your wife feel about that?” she asks, not looking back at him.
My brows rise.
He makes his way next to her, placing his forearm on the bar. “I told you we’re getting a divorce.”
She laughs. “You always were a liar.”
He looks at me. Nodding his head, he winks. What the fuck, dude? “Hey, baby …”
“She’s dating Grave,” she informs him.
His eyes widen for a split second and then go back at her. “Jas, come on …”
“Go away, Trenton!” she snaps at him. “Or I’ll send screenshots of those pics of your cock that you keep sending me to your wife with the time stamp and dates.”
His jaw tightens, but that’s enough to make him storm off back into the crowd. “Divorcing his wife, my ass,” she hisses, then lifts her hand for the bartender.
“I’m guessing that wasn’t the guy from last night?” I ask.
She snorts. “No. The guy from last night isn’t married, but I’m not sure he’s any better.” She slaps the bar. “Fuck this drink. We need shots.”
APRIL
An hour and countless shots later, we remain close to the bar when I look to the right and see Grave standing about twenty feet away talking to a man who is with a woman. He’s shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of black basketball shorts and tennis shoes, and his hair is wet like he just showered. My eyes run over his tatted and muscular body. My thighs tighten. Grave is by far the sexiest man I’ve ever seen. He has that unobtainable air about him. Like he’s the type of guy you want but know you can’t keep. The one who would give you a night of endless orgasms and never call you back. An absolute fuckboy. Yet he keeps coming back. And I keep letting him in. I’m going to ride that train until it runs off the tracks.
“Who is Grave talking to?” I ask, placing my attention on someone else. I’m drunk and horny. “That woman looks familiar.” She has dark brown hair pulled up in a high ponytail. She wears a simple white sundress with black Superstars. She looks cute yet comfortable but totally out of place here with this crowd.
Jasmine follows my line of sight. “That is Lovely Mathers.”
“I know that name …”
“Judge Mathers’ daughter.” She fills in the blank.
“Right.” I nod. “Didn’t she have a drug problem and went to rehab?” I remember reading something like that about her.
“Rumor is her father put her in a psych ward but told everyone she went to rehab.”
“Is she crazy?” I ask.
Jasmine throws her head back, laughing. “Girl, the right man can make any sane woman crazy.”
“True.”
“But no, she wasn’t. She went to school with us. She made straight A’s and was never in trouble. Her younger brother went missing, and Judge Mathers announced her stay in rehab. Said that after the disappearance she turned to drugs and alcohol abuse.”