Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Read Online Books/Novels: | The Bet (North Woods University #1) |
|---|---|
Author/Writer of Book/Novel: | J.L. Beck |
| Language: | English |
| ISBN/ ASIN: | B07PR1966D |
| Book Information: | |
“He was my best friend…” I say more to myself than her. “Yeah, so was I but you seem to have forgotten that part of your life.” The bet was simple. You draw a name from the hat. That’s the girl you have to seduce. The girl you have to make fall head over heels in love with you. It wasn’t hard for me to do, in fact, it was something I did all the time. I was known for breaking hearts. Sex was just that, sex. And it didn’t take me very long to get a woman on her back. And then I drew her name: Jules Peterson. My former best friend. My first kiss. My first love. She shattered my heart into a million pieces three years ago. She left me right when I needed her most. And as fate who have it, she had entered my life once again, at almost the perfect time. She was a transfer, fresh meat, and she had just put a target on her back. It was my turn to make her pay. It was my turn to break her heart. Holding onto that hate, that anger, that f*cking heartbreak. It does something to you. It breaks you, and it broke me, it tainted me, just like I would do to Jules. She used to be my everything, but now she was nothing but The Bet. ****The Bet is book one in the North Woods University series. It is a full length, standalone, novel. It contains adult themes, and content not suitable for all readers. It is NOT a young adult novel.** | |
| Books in Series: | North Woods University Series by J.L. Beck |
| Books by Author: | J.L. Beck Books |
Chapter One
Remington
I lick my lips, the busty blonde sitting beside me has my cock rock hard. I know I should be focusing on the shit that the professor is droning on about, but I don’t care. All I can think about is the things she’s going to do with her lips and tongue in about an hour.
A loud creaking noise fills the room interrupting Mr. Johnson, and momentarily pulling me from Layla, or maybe it’s Lacy, I can’t really remember. I look from the girl beside me and to the door.
Whoever it is, is going to get an ass-chewing. In college, the professors don’t really care if you’re late or don’t show up, so I’m not really sure why Mr. Johnson makes a show out of those that are tardy, still, I don’t hold my breath that he isn’t going to start bitching in a second.
My entire world flips on its axis when I see the person entering the room. Big blue eyes, soft pink lips, and long blonde curls, just the way I remember them.
Jules.
My heart starts beating out of my chest with just one look. No fucking way. I must be dreaming, or high, or drunk, or all three combined, because there is no fucking way that she’s really here, much less in this class.
I haven’t seen her in three years.
Three. Fucking. Years.
The memory of her is like a hot branding iron on my skin. The day she left was the day I lost a piece of who I was...a piece I tossed over my shoulder and never cared to find again. I grit my teeth, my jaw flexing with the pressure.
Mr. Johnson spins around, finger already raised as if he is about to snarl at her, but when he sees the sweet angel standing in the middle of the room, his face changes, morphing into something else. Even he can’t bring himself to yell at this sweet creature.
Sweet creature. I almost snort. This girl, well, clearly a woman now, given the curves she’s hiding and the tight jeans showing off her full ass broke me.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just had a hard time finding the room,” she whispers, her sing-song voice filling the room. She bats her long eyelashes at him innocently and all he does is clear his throat and motion for her to sit down.
Most of the assholes in this room are probably thinking she is acting, playing the innocent act, the woman who can do no wrong, but I know better. Everything about her is sweet and gentle. She wouldn’t hurt a fly. She never saw anything as a nuisance, not even me.
Jules has always been the sweetest person I know…until the day she ripped my heart out of my chest and left, taking the shredded pieces with her. Her sweetness turned sour the day she moved away, and all because she wanted to please her father. She didn't even fight. Didn't fight for us, for our friendship, for the chance of love.
She just left...left when I needed her more than anything, more than air, more than life. Losing her was like losing a piece of my soul, it killed me, but I survived. I built myself back up and became the man I am today.
“Excuse me,” she whispers, walking down the middle aisle getting closer and closer to me. Every step she takes angers me. I don’t want her near me, let alone to be in the same room as me. She spots an open seat in the row in front of me, and slides into it, but not before lifting her eyes to survey the room.
The professor has already started talking again, and most of the room is focused on the board, scribbling down every little word that’s written, so no one notices her stares. She tucks a curled lock of blonde hair behind her ear and then as if the entire fucking universe wanted to damn us, her eyes lock on mine.
Those big blue eyes, once so full of life, of wonder, of love for me, for us. In that instant, the entire fucking world could blow up around us and we wouldn’t notice. She seems shocked to see me, about as shocked as I am to see her, and then a tiny smile pulls at her plump lips.
“Remington…” the girl beside me whines, rubbing her manicured hand against my thigh, and suddenly my cock has deflated. I feel sick to my stomach, my insides twisting, all because of Jules.
She gives me a tiny little wave and then settles into her seat.
What the fuck? What the hell just happened. Did she seriously just wave at me? Red hot anger zings through me. Who the fuck does she think she is? Waving at me, acting like she doesn’t know what the hell she did. The hour seems to drone on, and with every ticking minute, my anger seems to grow. I feel like a boiling pot of water. One single second away from boiling over.