Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“Are you going to gloat all morning—”
“It’s midafternoon, dear,” Rush interrupts with a mock southern drawl. “I decided to let you take your time recovering from the marathon.”
“Didn’t even get laid and had to sit up all night listening to two couples fucking on either side of me. Maya’s not exactly tight-lipped,” Drake gripes, pouring sugar in his coffee and devoting his attention to it. “But at least she doesn’t describe her man’s dick’s shape, color, and size in graphic, generous detail.”
I finally slap a hand over my face, groaning loudly, deciding I hate Drake. If I was crazy enough to shoot him, I’d do it right this very second.
“Nothing was exaggerated,” Rush says with an I’m-pleased-with-myself sigh as he continues to simply watch every single expression on my face.
Knocking his feet out of the chair, I take a seat, as he lazily drops his feet to the ground, smirk never wavering.
Maya chooses that moment to snore, and Axle continues staring at his phone like it’s still just a normal thing. I find it weirdly sweet.
“You really can sit on my lap,” Rush says, leaning closer to me as he sips his orange juice.
My glare grows stronger, and his grin spreads wider as he bites into his apple. Orange juice and apple…bad combination, if you ask me.
“I hate the couples in this club. So fucking weird,” Drake mumbles.
“Personally, I hate you because you’re the one who started all this couple chatter, and I’m still nursing a broken heart,” Sarah states in a bland tone as she walks out.
“Probably best not to put the delusional, scary, crazy assassin in a foul mood,” Axle states as he stands abruptly, lifting Maya with him as he carries her out like she’s a doll.
“I hardly think I’m delusional,” Sarah states with complete seriousness as she blinks innocently, taking offense to only one of Axle’s labels.
“Finally. Let’s get the hell out of here,” Drake says as he follows them out, not even glancing at Sarah.
“Is he always an asshole?” I ask, finishing off my coffee.
Rush leans over abruptly, and I go stiff as he runs his lips along my jaw. “How much of that did you mean last night?” he asks more seriously, gently brushing my bed-head hair off my shoulder.
“I probably meant all of it, but I regret the stupidity that leaked out. So let’s stop talking about it, please,” I tell him as I stand and quickly follow them out.
A hand suddenly comes around my middle, and Rush hauls my back against his front, while his other hand grabs a generous amount of my ass.
I’m positive he’s about to mock me more, when he says, “We’ll discuss the highlights later, when you’re ready to be mature.”
He releases me abruptly and struts away with that smug expression back on his face. He’s saying I’m immature? I’m scared to look at the world from his eyes at this point.
“I think I’ll ride with Drake,” I tell him, walking over to yank the passenger side door open.
Maya grumbles some unintelligible sound from the backseat before she stretches out like she’s trying to get comfortable. In the next second, she’s snoring again.
“I’m surprised Rush isn’t hauling me out of here and forcing me to ride on the back of his bike,” I note, idly wondering if I’m seriously annoyed with the fact he’s just going to let me ride with Drake.
I have issues. This is why it’s not okay for me to be in love with Rush. I’m an idiot when I’m in love.
“I’m confused. He already said you’d be riding with me. That’s why I was bitching about being stuck with the vagina squad when you walked in,” Drake tells me with a furrowed brow, while I glare at the back of Rush’s helmet.
I’m that predictable to that asshole. How did that happen?
“Axle was just going to let Maya sleep, since the two of them stayed at it even longer than the two of you. I was starting to think I was stuck in the middle of a fuck-off. Get it?” Drake prattles on, while I cross my arms over my chest.
Rush starts his bike up, and he begins driving in front of us. Drake hurriedly pulls out behind him, driving a random SUV that seems to have come from thin air.
“I guess we really did get hit last night,” Drake notes as Rush weaves by a felled tree that is taking up half the road.
A few powerlines are down, and numerous vehicles have been wrecked and abandoned on one stretch of highway.
“Sheesh. Usually that siren blows and we don’t even get straight-line winds,” he says, sitting up straighter, as we both take in all the damage.
Some houses have had the roofs ripped off, or they’ve been hit by mid-size trees. Glass is all over the road and on the sidewalks.