Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 84289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“You’re a psycho on the track,” Aaron tells me after I lap him.
And for the final round, I purposely take a turn too hard, wanting to let the kid win.
“Damn. You’re gaining on me,” I tell him.
“Get smoked! Get smoked, Niko,” Aaron says as he races ahead of me and wins the round. I fist-bump him and he does a little victory dance, standing up from the couch. “I’m getting another piece of the apple tart. Anyone want anything?”
“Good for now,” I say.
“Mind if I walk over to Cheyenne’s house?” Emily asks her parents, standing up from the couch.
“Kind of cold for a walk, sweetheart,” Victor tells her.
“It’s, like, three doors down,” Emily says.
Cheryl clicks her tongue. “More like ten. Wear a thick coat, love. Be back before midnight, okay?”
“Will do,” Emily says, hugging both of her parents.
She gives us a wave, and Victor and Cheryl also get up, heading down the hall and getting caught up in a conversation elsewhere in the house.
For a moment, it’s just me and Ollie in the living room.
It’s the first time we’ve been alone together since we walked into the house, hours and hours ago.
And I turn to look at him, biting back a smile.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he says.
“Ollie.”
“Don’t say anything to me, Niko.”
“You told your family all about me,” I say in a teasing tone. “You bragged about me.”
He looks like he wants to die for a moment, and then he leans over, closing the gap between us on the couch and pressing his lips to mine.
He kisses me hard. He smells like wine, and it only makes me want to taste more of him.
“This is the only way I know how to get you to quit talking,” he murmurs as he pulls back for a moment, and then his mouth lands on mine again.
I slide my tongue along his, giving it a suck, and I feel him gently exhale as he slowly pulls away.
“I like it, Ollie. You revert right back to your shy, adorable, absolutely fuckable self when you’re back here, and it turns me on.”
I press a kiss to the side of his neck and he leans into my touch.
“I hope you’re having an okay time.”
“It’s great. Really.”
My feelings are a lot more complex than that, in reality, but only because I’m envious that anyone could have a family like this.
“I’m glad you’re not cringing at me every goddamn minute.”
“Never.”
“I like it a lot better when you’re here,” he tells me.
Remember that’s fake, Niko.
Remember he just wants you so that he doesn’t feel alone.
The wine’s making it feel like he’s yours, but he’s not.
I pull in a breath and hold his hand in mine, massaging his palm.
“I like being here, too,” I tell him.
He pulls his lower lip between his teeth, then gives me a short nod. “Hey. Tell me the fucking thing.”
“Ollie…”
“You’re not pushing it off again. Just tell me. Why was Callum saying he saved your life?”
I swallow hard.
I look up, then back down at him.
I can see two of the freckles on his lower neck and all I want to do is lean in and kiss him there. Delay. Stay with him the way things are, right now.
But he’s giving me a look that breaks me apart inside.
And so I spill.
I start telling him my little sob story, knowing he may see me differently forever.
“I was on a hiking trip with Callum and a few of his friends. He claimed one of them was an agent, looking for new talent for his modeling agency. Once we got on the trip, I tried to ask the guy about opportunities, and Callum said it was the wrong time to talk business. So he took me behind a ledge, called me a career climbing whore, and pushed me across a wet rock, and I slipped.”
“No,” Oliver whispers.
My throat feels tight as I explain the events of that day.
It feels surreal even talking about it. Like I’m describing someone else’s life.
I wave a hand through the air. “It was nothing. I barely got a scratch. But… I was hollow inside. Done with him and the accumulation of his lies.”
“What happened?” Ollie whispers.
Something feels heavy behind my eyes. “So I, uh, drained a flask of vodka and then went to the edge of a waterfall cliff and jumped off, with no knowledge of what was below.”
I say it fast.
As if admitting something like that is easier if I spit it out quick.
It’s not easier.
“No.”
“I didn’t want to die. But when I drifted in and out of consciousness, seeing Callum’s face as he and his friends pulled me from the water… I knew something had to change. Because I felt like it would have been easier if I’d had that escape. Maybe not death, but even if I’d been gravely injured, I could be in the hospital and escape from him.”