Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 68735 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68735 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
But not the way one would think.
They shared a best friend.
What they did not do, however, was like each other.
You could say that it was a war to win the best friend title.
The only problem was, their best friend would never choose a clear winner. So they spent their teenage years fighting it out. What Audric didn’t know, though, was that Creole was desperately in love with him.
The same went for Audric. He wanted Creole more than his next breath.
But it was never the right time.
Then life happened, and it kicked them both in the teeth.
One second they’re acting, and the next the anger is real, and neither one of them can stand to be near the other.
For years, they fight it out, one-upping each other to the point where neither one of them can be in the same room with each other without things going to hell.
Then one day their best friend dies, and they have to figure out a way to live without her.
There’s no fighting anymore, at least verbally. Physically, however? They let their bodies duke it out the fun way.
But in the end, neither one of them wins.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
One
I know life is unfair, but this is fucking absurd.
—Audric’s secret thoughts
AUDRIC
Twelve Years Ago
“Thanks for the ride,” my best friend, Laney, called out.
Her best friend, Creole Williams, didn’t do more than flip me off.
I sneered at her in reaction.
Fucking Creole Williams.
She was the worst person on the planet.
We fought like cats and dogs, and swear to God, if she gave me the chance, I’d rip her clothes off and fuck her brains out.
She was the hottest person I’d ever seen.
Long legs—goddamn, they were the bane of my existence.
Tanned, soft skin—I only knew her skin was soft because I had to help her into my truck today. Thank god for big tires and my summer job.
Beautiful, crazy blonde hair that was so wild and curly that it would never be tamed.
But my most favorite thing about her was her Caribbean-blue eyes.
They always felt like they were spitting fire and usually aimed toward me.
“You’re welcome, Lane,” I said. “You’re also welcome, Creole.”
Creole didn’t bother turning around and giving me any acknowledgment.
Not that I expected any.
She’d hated me for the last six months now, and I had no idea why.
One day we’d been the Three Musketeers, and the next, Lane was the only one that would talk to me.
I knew it had something to do with a party that we’d been at after a football game during last season, but I had no idea what I’d done that made her hate me so much.
The drive home was uneventful, but my brain was filled with thoughts of Creole, and what I could’ve possibly done to make her not want anything to do with me anymore.
I’d even asked Laney multiple times, but she was just as confused as I was.
Neither one of us knew what had happened that day, and likely, we never would since she was such a private person.
I guess we should be thankful she was at least talking to Laney still.
I pulled into the driveway and groaned when I saw my dad still wasn’t home.
He worked forty-eight hours on, ninety-six hours off for the Dallas Fire Department as a paramedic and firefighter.
Oh, and he lived across the street now in my grandmother’s house.
He should’ve been home this morning right after I left for school, but if he wasn’t there yet, that meant that he was probably still at the firehouse.
Fuck.
I looked across the street at my mom’s house and groaned.
I hated going over there.
Even worse, sometimes I felt like when I went over there, my mom hated me as much as she now hated my dad.
Probably, she had a right to.
When my dad moved out, I’d moved out right along with him.
Because no way was I staying at my mom’s place all alone.
I might get lost in all the shit and never be found again.
My mom was a hoarder.
It all started a couple of years ago when my little sister died during a robbery at the supermarket.
When the dust had settled after my sister’s funeral, Mom had decided never to leave the house again. Along with all of the shit that entered the house.
I didn’t think I’d ever seen her throw a single thing away since she’d rage-cleaned my sister’s room the day before she’d died.
Drawing a deep breath into my lungs, I got out of my truck that was in my grandma’s driveway and walked across the street while shoving my keys into my pocket.
The house was quiet when I made it inside.
I looked around, my face turned down in a frown.
“Mom?” I called.
My mom and dad had split three months ago.
Dad had found another woman that he fell in love with, and instead of forcing himself to stay and make a marriage between him and my mom work when it couldn’t, he’d left.
He hadn’t gotten with the other woman yet, though.
He was giving it time, being respectful.
Not rubbing it in.
He planned on waiting a year before he made his move on the woman that he fell in love with.
Which I completely respected.
My parents hadn’t ever had a great married life.
I could remember from my earliest memories, my mom and dad fighting like cats and dogs.
Once I was older and could understand why they were fighting, I never could figure out why they were still together.
Dad was a great dad—that was why I lived with him instead of my mother.
I loved him, and he loved me.
He came to all my games—even if he had to bring the entire firehouse with him when he was at work on those days.
Meanwhile, Mom never bothered.
She would make sure that all my papers were signed for athletics and school, but damned if her ass would ever leave the house.
She was agoraphobic.
She hadn’t always been that way.
However, one day she left the house for groceries, and the next she never did it again.
My dad allowed it to continue, and before either of us knew it, she was so far gone that she couldn’t even step outside to check the mail.