Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 137654 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 688(@200wpm)___ 551(@250wpm)___ 459(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137654 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 688(@200wpm)___ 551(@250wpm)___ 459(@300wpm)
“Me too.” I tip the cup back and take a large gulp. It’s my third one, and I’ve got a damn good buzz going. Some might even say I’m drunk.
As soon as Cole dropped me off at home, I changed my clothes, jumped in my car, and left. It’s a Friday night, and I needed a fucking drink after what happened with the guys. I embarrassed myself and tased Kellan. And I started a fight. Even I know a girl who starts a fight between friends is never good.
If they didn’t want me dead before, they do now.
I take another drink. My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore it because I don’t want to speak to anyone at the moment. It’s probably Celeste. I didn’t even tell her I was leaving. I’m not even sure she was at the house.
“I’m out,” Becky announces as she stands from the couch in the living room at some rich kid’s parents’ house. “Let’s do some shots.” She smiles down at me. “I saw some bottles of vodka.”
I stand, and the room sways a little. “You talked me into it.”
We make our way through the people and into the kitchen. A guy who looks over twenty-one with his lip piercing and gauged ears stands behind the kitchen island. He reminds me of Martin, and I wonder if he ever thinks of me. He hasn’t crossed my mind once until now.
The guy lines up five shot glasses and then starts pouring the vodka into them.
We clink our glasses together and then down them.
“Another,” I say, not even feeling the burn.
Becky laughs, and we slam our glasses on the countertop.
She raises her phone, and I lean into her, pushing my lips out and throwing up the deuce. I have become the typical drunk teenage girl, and I’m not ashamed. She takes the picture, and then I see her starting to upload it to Instagram. “Don’t upload that,” I say, placing my hand on it and slamming it to the table. “That’s all I need is for Cole to see it.” She said he didn’t do social media, but Deke does, and he has tons of friends. Someone is bound to inform Cole. I don’t wanna have to hear about it.
“Okay.” She smiles, and we both laugh.
“And why don’t you want me to see it, sweetheart?”
My laughter dies off when I look across the counter and into a set of blue eyes. My throat instantly goes dry, and my stomach drops.
Cole stands before me, his hands on the island, spread out wide, and his eyes are staring down at me, void of emotion. “Hmm?”
I don’t answer.
“Fancy seeing you here, baby. Hello, Becky.”
I see Deke standing next to him, his eyes running over her chest, but mine go back to Cole. He pours a shot of vodka and then slowly pushes it across the countertop to me. “I dare you.” A shiver runs through me at the challenge in his deep voice.
“Shit,” I hear Becky whisper, and I lift my chin. He arches a brow.
He’s not my dad. He’s not even my boyfriend. I can do whatever I want whenever I want. I grab the cold shot glass and knock it back. I slam it on the countertop and shove it over to him. “Another,” I demand.
Becky places her hand on mine. “Austin …”
“Another,” I repeat, ignoring her.
He does as I say without taking his eyes off mine. But this time, he takes it instead of giving it to me.
“Thought you weren’t coming out tonight?” And I slurred the last word. Becky laughs.
He is not amused. “That was the plan.”
“And?” I ask, trying to act like I don’t care he’s standing in front of me. That he’s here when I wanted to get away from him. How much can one person humiliate another? I think he is up to ten times. In six days.
“Plans change.”
“Isn’t that the truth?” I ask, yanking the bottle from his hand and pouring myself another shot. Then Becky. “To plans changing.” We clink our glasses together.
He slams his hand down on the counter and leans over it. “Do not take that shot, Austin!” he shouts, getting everyone’s attention.
My anger rises. Just two hours ago, his best friend had his hand around my throat. I wanna get drunk, and I wanna forget about this fucking week where I have completely lost all grasp of my life. “What are you going to do to me, Cole? Gonna hurt me?” I ask. A part of me wants him to. I want his hands fisted in my hair. Around my neck. I want him to make me weak in the knees like at his house party. Even if it was for show. I didn’t realize how cold I was until he touched me. Now my body craves that burn.