Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
“I’ll have the lasagna,” I blurted out, then moved to get up. “I’ll be back,” I told both of them, then headed toward the back hall that led to the restrooms.
My heart was racing in my chest, like I’d been running a goddamn marathon. Dammit, why did I let her do this to me still? From the first time I had seen her standing in the hallway at school, lost and looking for her locker, I’d reacted like this.
I passed the restrooms, knowing where I was going and all the fucking reasons I should turn the hell around. But like so many times before, I had no control over my actions when it came to her. Cressida Beck triggered my crazy.
Seven Years Ago
“You coming or not?” Gathe called out to me from his truck.
We were supposed to meet the others at Proof Pony—a local bar—after football practice. My Hummer was in the shop, getting new rims, so I’d had to catch a ride to school with Gathe. He was the only one who passed my house every morning. Well, Crosby was close by, and it wouldn’t be out of his way, but he’d have Saylor in the car with him, and I couldn’t listen to her whine and bitch that early in the morning.
My eyes were locked on the black Mustang that had just pulled up near the entrance of the school. The owner of the car, Pirate Beck, wasn’t of any interest to me, but his sister was a different story. Was he here to get her, and if so, why was she still at school?
One of the wide double doors swung open, and Cressida came out with her book bag tossed over her shoulder. The wind caught her hair, and it floated around her shoulders like fucking flames.
Damn, she was gorgeous.
It was becoming harder to stay away from her. She was too damn sweet, and she’d already dealt with shit in her life. I might keep my distance, but it didn’t mean I hadn’t run a background check on her. My obsession with the girl was just getting worse. She had only been here for a couple of months, but it was getting to the point that my day revolved around searching her out. I was close to putting a tracker on her, and I knew that was fucked up, but the need to know where she was might be stronger than my sanity.
She paused in her step when her gaze locked on mine. I liked how I made her nervous. She always licked her lips before her perfect white teeth bit down on her bottom lip. The hope in her eyes that I’d speak to her was so damn vivid that it was difficult to ignore.
One delicate, manicured hand lifted and waved at me. My mouth quirked as I fought back a smile. She was getting brave. That was new. The wave was bold. I liked it. Too much.
“Dude!” Gathe called out impatiently.
I held out a hand. “In a minute,” I replied, not taking my eyes off her.
Fuck it. I was going to talk to her. She’d waved. I couldn’t get in the damn truck and drive off.
The moment I headed in her direction, her eyes widened and brightened instantly. That wasn’t going to help my good intentions. I was already picturing her face every time I fucked or got sucked off. That had pretty much started the moment I saw her.
She took a step toward me, then paused, as if she wasn’t sure I was headed to her or not. Her eyes did a quick scan of the area around her to see she was alone, except for her brother—well, technically, he was her adopted brother, although her family said he was her stepbrother. I knew the truth. I’d read it in her file.
“Now, what kept you at school so late? Don’t tell me you were in detention. I didn’t peg you for a troublemaker,” I said as I reached her.
Her eyes were back on me now, and she could not look more fucking adorable. All flustered and excited.
“No, I, uh, I’m in the school musical. I had to stay to work with the piano player and music teacher on one of the harder songs I’m singing.”
I hadn’t known there was a musical. Had they always had those? Wait, maybe I’d seen something about it, but I hadn’t paid attention. That was about to change.
“You sing?” I asked.
Her cheeks pinkened, and she nodded her head.
“When is this musical?” Because I wasn’t missing it.
“In two weeks,” she replied hesitantly. “But I doubt you’d want to see it. I can’t imagine Mean Girls is your thing?”
I had no idea what the fuck that was. “You onstage might be though.” And that came out without me thinking it through.
Her breathing hitched, and it was obvious she was fighting back a smile. She didn’t have to; her eyes said it all.