False Start Read Online Shandi Boyes

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 85453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
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Through the breathless shudders wreaking havoc with her body, she murmurs, “Your… dick… was… purple, and you didn’t get it checked… for hours.”

“I can live without my dick. I can’t live without you.”

After accepting a towel from Crew, I wrap it around McKayla’s torso before lifting her into my arms and sprinting the five blocks to her car. I don’t drive. Haven’t since the accident I wasn’t involved in but was very much a part of, but it will be quicker for me to take McKayla to the hospital than wait for it to come to her.

My thunderous steps should dislodge any leftover water in her lungs, but for what they miss I’m sure the shakes hampering my frame will fulfill.

I shudder like the pool was filled with ice while stabbing the spare key into her stinky ride. It kicks over the first try, but it takes me three goes to put the drive stick into reverse, and I only achieve that because of the watery cough McKayla releases. She sounds like she’s drowning hundreds of miles from the ocean, and the memories it pops into my head are damaging to my sanity.

With my head locked down, I race out of the parking lot in front of student housing, then take the most direct route to the hospital we seem to frequent lately.

“I told you I was fine.” McKayla’s voice is still groggy. I don’t know if it is compliments to the water she swallowed or because she’s still intoxicated. It could be a bit of both. She tossed down more tequila than she did water, but the tequila landed in her stomach instead of her lungs. “Although I’m super tired.”

“Then we better get you to bed.”

I peer into the back seat of McKayla’s bomb, seeking the owner of the overprotective voice that just came from my mouth. When I fail to find anyone, I unlatch my belt, slide out from the driver’s seat of McKayla’s car, then hotfoot it to the passenger side to help her out.

The smile I’ve been dying to see for far longer than the hour she spent at the hospital creeps onto her face when I open her door a second before pivoting around and bobbing down. She didn’t break anything during her tumble into the pool, but her legs are super wobbly.

“Ah… where are you going?” she asks when I head for my frat house instead of her dormitory once she’s clinging to my back like a koala.

“Dr. Phipps said you should be monitored.”

Her high pitch rings in my ears when she shouts, “So I don’t choke on my tongue if I bring up the dinner you didn’t feed me.”

Since I can’t deny her claims, I remain quiet.

Her tone is softer now, almost disappointed. “Eden can do that, Cash. You don’t need to babysit me.”

“I’m not babysitting you.” I’m appeasing my panic. But since I can’t say that, I continue my trek, my long strides only halving when I spot Kamil at the side of the patio, staring at me.

“She good?” You’d assume his question is regarding McKayla’s visit to the ER. I know that isn’t the case. He’s reminding me of the rules before ensuring I don’t break them. “She was close to cutoff, Milo.”

“Close but not over. She didn’t have the ninth nip.” I adjust McKayla’s position to ensure we clear the front door of my frat house before adding, “You also have my word that I won’t touch her.” The thudding of McKayla’s heart doubles during my assurance, but she remains as quiet as a church mouse. “You can trust me, Kam. I won’t hurt her.”

He trusts me, but he takes the rules very seriously—as would any man if his baby sister was raped on campus. “Do you want to go with him, Einstein?” He acts as if McKayla isn’t clinging to my back while asking, “Because all you have to say is no, and I’ll walk you home myself.” He drops his eyes to me. “And he won’t say shit about it.”

“I won’t,” I back up when he looks seconds from castrating me where I stand. My dick only returned to a normal size yesterday afternoon. I won’t do anything to hurt it again.

When McKayla takes her time deliberating a response, I promise, “I’ll even leave the door open.”

A reason for her delay is unearthed when she asks, “Are the sheets clean?”

“Yes,” I bark out with a laugh. “Why wouldn’t they be?”

She gives me a leering look when I crank my neck back to peer at her, and it has me reading her like a book. “I told you that took place in the shower.”

Now Kamil is more interested in our one-sided conversation than ensuring I’m not coercing a drunk girl into my room. “You beat acute malutitus?” Anyone would swear I defeated cancer for the way he’s acting. “I thought that was incurable?”


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