Total pages in book: 213
Estimated words: 201920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1010(@200wpm)___ 808(@250wpm)___ 673(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 201920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1010(@200wpm)___ 808(@250wpm)___ 673(@300wpm)
“Not tonight,” I finally answer. I’m not feeling it. There’s only one girl I want to see here, and I know for a fact she knows I’m here. She knows where to find me. She’s not here because she doesn’t want me. I’m not stupid and her hints aren’t subtle.
I went to her place, but she didn’t answer.
She’s pissing me off more than anything. With the whiskey flowing through my veins, there’s not much of anything keeping me from going back to her house right now.
“Why the fuck not?” he asks me, rearing his head back to look at me like I’m being unreasonable.
“Not tonight,” I repeat and toss the plastic shot glass into the trash. That was the third or fourth shot I’ve had over the course of fifteen minutes. Maybe fifth. One after the other and I sway slightly, but the cup makes it into the bin.
“Is it that chick?” he asks. That chick. That’s not her name.
“Yeah,” I tell him and my body feels tight, even as my vision tilts. She’s fucking with me and she knows it. Worst of all, I’m letting her.
“Suit yourself,” he says as he fills a cup from the tap of the keg.
Anger rises in a slow billow as I watch the foam rise to the top of the rim.
“What the fuck does that mean?” The words slip from me without any deliberate intention. It’s the anger taking over. Not at him. It’s anger directed at her.
“Calm down,” Kev tells me, scrunching his brow and looking over his drink at me. “I didn’t mean shit.”
James laughs and it pisses me off. The room tilts in the opposite direction when I look at him.
“You got something to say?” I ask him. Because the fucker looks like he has something to say. The second the question leaves me, the front door opens and there she is.
The short dress hits her upper thigh as she kicks the door shut, letting the thin fabric swirl around her. From head to toe, she has every detail in place. From her straightened hair to the high heels that complement the bracelets adorning her wrist.
That devilish smile isn’t in sight as she turns toward the kitchen, toward us, and instantly catches my gaze. Like she could feel me watching her. I take her in slowly, feeling like an asshole for thinking she was avoiding me.
She wouldn’t have come if she didn’t want me. Right?
But then her eyes flash and she rips her gaze away.
She came to end it.
My heart slams once, then twice, as she stalks toward us. In my blurred periphery, I see James lean in closer and say quietly but with an arrogance I’m not in the mood for, “That’s the type of girl who fucks you raw when you show up to her house. Lets you fuck her in public. Likes to flirt. Likes attention. And will do anything to get it. Or anyone.” He nods his head as he talks, staring at something behind me. My knuckles turn white as the anger builds in response to his oblivious nature. “You really want to be tied up with that?” he asks me and my head turns slowly. So fucking slowly and against my will as Allison heads right for us.
“Watch your fucking mouth.” My words come out sharp and as I turn toward him, everyone else takes a step back.
The heat rises and my shoulders feel tense.
James looks at me like a deer in fucking headlights. Like he didn’t see it coming. Like those weren’t fighting words that just came out of his mouth.
Before I can say a damn thing, I feel a strong arm push me back slightly, making me face Allison and not that asshole.
“Look who’s in the house,” Daniel says, wrapping his arm tighter around my shoulder and inserting himself between me and James. He keeps a strong grip on me and whispers for me to calm down. That she’s here and everything’s fine. That it’s not worth it. And that last line is what repeats itself as Allie comes closer, looking between all of us like she wishes she hadn’t come. That it’s not worth it.
The fuck it isn’t.
I struggle to know what to do. The whiskey and the anger swirl into a deadly concoction in the pit of my stomach.
I’m a fucking mess. Daniel’s good-natured laugh seems at odds with what’s flowing in my veins.
But he’s different from me. Daniel has a way of smiling through the bullshit. Of acting like things don’t bother him, when inside he’s envisioning slitting your throat. It’s how he was raised.
“What’s up, sweetheart?” he asks Allie as she glances from James to him, then to me before setting her purse down on the counter.
The metal links of the strap clink as they hit one another, and I force myself to focus on that, rather than the sound of James leaving the kitchen.