Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
I can hardly process that. “Why would you do that?”
“To make sure I’m not aiding and abetting a criminal.”
“I’m technically still stealing…”
“Not if they really owe you.”
“You don’t have any reason to trust me. Why would you even suggest that?”
He shrugs. “Did you want me to text Spencer? Because I can.”
“No. I’m trying to understand where this is coming from.”
“Well, now you know how I’ve felt since I caught you in the locker room.”
I’m as confused as I was when I tumbled into the lake as a kid, struggling to sort through what’s happening. Is he seriously considering helping me? Or… “Is this a trick where you tell the guys and they confront me at Alpha Alpha Mu?”
“I guess you’re just gonna have to trust me the way I have to trust you.”
I don’t like this, but Matteo’s backed me into a corner, and now he’s the one thing standing between me and my chance to get my hands on that notebook…my chance to get some answers about what happened to Nick.
I study his expression. Worst-case scenario: I agree, and the moment he leaves, he texts the guys and fucks me over.
So, again, what do I really have to lose?
“Fine. Come with me. But afterward, no more questions?” I reach my hand out for a shake, and he glares at it.
“I’m not agreeing to that part. But don’t make me regret this.” He takes my hand, and we shake on it.
This isn’t great, but it’s the best I got.
*
For the next few days, I’m on edge, waiting for one of the guys to confront me, but Matteo stays true to his word. At least, as far as I can tell. For all I know, he’s revealed my intentions to them, and they’re waiting to exact their revenge.
On Friday and Saturday night, I stand by my agreement with the Saints and spy on the Sinners at the old church during their meetings. Then on Sunday afternoon, I meet Matteo in the lounge on our dorm floor. We cut across campus, heading toward Alpha Alpha Mu. Neither of us says much, but Matteo finally pipes up, “So I didn’t realize you were friends with Malcom.”
Malcom’s my excuse for being at the frat today, to keep the Saints from becoming suspicious.
As a breeze rushes by, I rub my hands together to warm them. “We played pickleball together freshman year, and he’s always looking for people to game with.”
“And I assume Spencer’s not around today?”
“I don’t really know.”
He shoots me a look. “What?”
“Relax. You’re gonna take care of Spencer.”
“How am I going to do that?”
“I’ve seen the way he looks at you at parties. The moment he finds out you’re in the house, he’s gonna be on your tail, trying to win your attention.”
“You noticed him looking at me?”
“I’ve noticed plenty of people looking at you over the past year and a half,” I admit. “I’d say don’t let it get to your head, but I don’t imagine you need anything to do that.”
Now he’s smirking, and I must admit I enjoy inflating his ego.
“Well, what can I say?” he says in an exceptionally cocky way.
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Don’t act like I’m the cocky one here. You think I don’t see people noticing you too?”
As his gaze meets mine, heat rushes to my cheeks.
“If I looked like you,” Matteo goes on, “I don’t know that I’d have time for classes with all I’d be up to.” Even though I laugh, I can’t deny enjoying the compliment, and he doesn’t stop there. “And that ass. Ooh, if I had that fucking ass on me, I’d have a hard time keeping my pants on.”
“My ass? Really?”
“You got a nice, firm rump to grab on to. I got this flat shit back here.” He wiggles his ass for me, which I don’t see any issue with, but I also can’t imagine what’s so great about my ass.
“You’ve probably had the best look at my ass when you face-planted into it the other day.”
We share a laugh.
“I swear, I almost took a bite out of it.”
“What?” I spit out since he didn’t sound like he was joking.
He’s all smiles as he studies my ass some more. “Can’t explain it. I’ve never thought about doing something like that with a guy, but I wanted to give it a good tug between my teeth.”
My cheeks warm again. Why did he want to do that? And why is that exciting to me?
I shake those thoughts off. Surely, it just feels good getting a compliment.
“Could you imagine if you suddenly bit my ass in the middle of the game?”
“Oh, I can imagine it.” He says that without a trace of humor, those piercing eyes set on me.
This is really throwing me.
“You can praise my ass all you want,” I say, “but I know damn well you don’t walk around with a face like that not knowing any better.”