Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
He stared at me. A beat. Then a smile spread. “There’s my woman.”
I grinned back.
He brushed his lips to mine, then we went out to deal with both of them.
Kash was at my back.
TWENTY-FOUR
Liam was more having the confrontation with Matt.
Matt was more not doing anything.
Not quite true. He was smirking and half grinning, two hands on the table behind him, and he was half sitting, half lounging there. There was a lot of “half” with Matt, but not with Liam. He was fully in Matt’s face, fully angry, and no one could argue otherwise. As we approached, Liam’s arms had been spread wide in the air, but then he pointed a finger in Matt’s face, and that’s when the “half” of Matt ended.
The smirk vanished. So did the half grin. A scary glare formed and his eyes narrowed as he stood slowly from the table. He was now squarely in Liam’s face, and Liam registered it. He paused, the finger still pointing in Matt’s face, but he moved back a step and swallowed. He lowered his hand, and it was the right move.
Matt’s glare lessened, and the side of his mouth went up in a half smirk, but his eyes remained hard. Liam had messed up.
Hoda was a few feet behind Liam, along with two of the guys from our class—Dax and Shyam. Both were looking around, nervous, shifting on their feet.
The woman next to Hoda was not what or whom I expected Camille Story to look like. She was petite, with the fairest skin I’ve ever seen and strawberry-blonde hair that was nearly white. She almost looked albino, except her eyelashes were black. She was wearing a pale pink sweater hanging over a white top, and white slacks that were baggy and loose. There was a slit up the side of the leg, showing a full thigh. They were the type of pants that truly could be pajamas or could be mixed with a nice sweater, like she was wearing, and be classy and chic.
The girl had fashion sense.
She had a row of three braids that ran the length of one side of her skull, then fell down. The other side of her hair was loose and curled lightly.
She was in the know with the trends. That was for sure.
Before she saw Kash and me, her lips were parted. She was watching Matt like she couldn’t memorize his face fast enough. Her eyes were dark and hungry, and sharp.
If I hadn’t already known she was smart, I would’ve known for sure then. Those eyes weren’t missing a thing—unlike Hoda, who was standing next to her, half hugging herself. Her arms were folded in front of her, but slightly loose, so she was cupping her elbows with only a couple fingers. Her gaze was wide and looking panicked.
Melissa was off to the side. She wasn’t a part of Matt’s group. She was standing a few feet forward and away from Torie and Tamara. But Melissa was also not standing with our classmates. Her eyebrows were furrowed. She was biting her lip, and her head was bouncing from Liam to Matt and back again. Her body shifted as her head moved, too.
Camille’s entire demeanor changed when she saw us. She was the one who saw us first. Everyone was focused on Liam and Matt, but her eyes went from sharp to panicked. She paled for a second, her mouth clamping shut, and she jutted back a step. She bumped into Hoda, who was jarred, threw her a frown, and moved aside as she reached to rub her elbow. Then Hoda clued in. She followed Camille’s gaze to us, and her reaction was a twin of the blogger’s.
Kash didn’t move, though I felt his intensity ramp up a notch. His hand touched my hip, and he fitted me back to him. My entire back side was plastered to him.
“Yo.” Matt noticed us, and he resumed his half-leaning stance. His eyes remained alert, but everything else about him was relaxed, and he almost looked like he was bored.
Tony. Chester. Guy. They all remained sitting in the booth.
Everyone quieted after Matt’s greeting.
They were waiting for us to take over whatever this was.
I frowned. What was this?
Liam snapped out, impatient, “Melissa sent out a nine one one to the entire group chat: ‘Nine one one, I’m at Naveah.’”
“What?” Melissa squeaked. “I did not.”
“You did. Nine one one, Lissa. So we scrambled who we could, and we’re here, and this guy is all in Melissa’s space. He’s crowding her, making her uncomfortable. We show up, and I’m here demanding to know who this guy is, and not one of your staff will call the police.”
I looked at Melissa.
She flushed, hanging her head. “I meant to say ‘Four one one, I’m at Naveah’! In like an excited thing, not a nine one one that I need help. ’Cause I don’t, and I didn’t.” She motioned to Matt. “We were just talking, Liam.”