Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 67324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
I reach the jetty and see Mykel standing at the end of it, looking out over the water. My heart does a funny twist, and I put it down to the drugs in my system because there’s no way I care about this man . . . right?
My mind is playing tricks on me.
Just like it did with Dax.
When I reach the end of the jetty, Mykel turns and he glances down at my tiny cotton shorts and tank top.
“What the fuck are you wearin’, Waverly?”
“This is what I sleep in,” I croak.
He reaches out and touches my hair. “Your hair is dripping wet. You’ll get sick.”
He shrugs off the leather jacket he’s wearing and reaches around, putting it over my shoulders. It swims on me, but my god, it smells amazing. Like leather and man and all the good things in the world. My body is immediately warmer. I glance out at the lake, the moon shining over the water. I feel a touch better after walking down here. Maybe it’s the fresh air?
“Here,” Mykel says, handing me a bottle of water. “Drink it. Trust me.”
“Thanks,” I murmur, taking the water bottle and unscrewing the top before taking a long drink.
Gosh, I didn’t realize how much I needed that.
“What happened with you and Dax tonight?” he asks me, his voice gravelly.
“I don’t . . . I don’t know,” I say, sitting on the edge of the jetty so my feet hang over the edge. He does the same, though he doesn’t sit too close to me.
God, that bothers me.
Do I only care about what he thinks because I have feelings for him? Or do I think I have feelings for him because he makes out like he doesn’t like me and it’s frustrating?
Or am I just imagining the whole damned thing?
“You kissed him.”
“He kissed me,” I say, a little defensive.
“You let him.”
“Yes, I let him. For a second, for a stupid second of my life. What do you care, Mykel? We both know you can’t stand me.”
“I care because it’s my fuckin’ club that could go down for this.”
I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. Fuck him. He only brought me out here to remind me that he doesn’t give a fuck about me, and he only cares about the club, and that’s it. God.
I shrug off his jacket and stand, tossing it down at him. “You know what, Mykel? Fuck you. I’ve never done a thing wrong to you, and you still seem to have this problem with me. You only came out here to question me so you can run back and protect your fucking club. You couldn’t give a damn what I’m actually feeling right now.”
I turn and storm down the end of the jetty. Every step is agony.
“Stop!” Mykel orders, following after me.
“Go eat a giant dick!” I yell, throwing my middle finger up over my shoulder.
“Fuck it, Waverly. I said stop.” His hand curls around my arm and he spins me so fast I lose my footing. One moment, one slow-ass moment, I’m flying towards him, and then I’m bouncing off his body, tripping and I don’t know fucking how, but he loses his grip on my arm and I go straight over the side of the jetty. For a minute, it feels like it’s happening in slow motion.
Then, I hit the water.
The icy-cold water.
The water that feels like it penetrates my very bones.
What . . . what’s happening to me? The lights are getting further away. I’m falling deeper. Like I know I have to move, to get to surface, but I can’t seem to get my arms and legs to agree. Panic grips my chest, and I inhale a huge gulp of water. Oh, god. I’m going to die.
Finally my body starts working and I thrash around, choking on water, which is the worst possible thing I could do.
Huge arms circle me and before I know it, I’m launched to the surface and dragged out of the water. I spend the entire time coughing and panting, trying to get the water from my lungs.
When we reach the sand, Mykel lays me down and then swiftly rolls me to my side where he slams his hand on my back, his fingers curled around my chin as if supporting my mouth so it won’t close.
“Cough it up,” he orders, hitting my back over and over.
I do. I cough and cough and water spews out until there’s nothing left and I’m simply gasping for air. Only then does Mykel help me into a sitting position.
“I’m sorry,” he tells me, his voice low and panicked. I can hear how scared he was just from those two words.
“Why do you hate me so damned much, Mykel?” I whisper, shivering.
“I don’t fuckin’ hate you.”
“You could have freakin’ fooled me.”