Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“I like you better when you’re bad.”
Something not unlike a growl is all I hear in response before his lips are on mine once again. Ash walks us over to the wall next to the window, still holding me by my ass. When my back hits the wall, his hands are free to roam. He smooths them up the outsides of my thighs and then either side of my waist. I hold on to his shoulders to keep from melting into a puddle at his feet as I feel it building again, and my hips shift in search of the friction I need, when I hear it.
Giggling. Feminine, annoying giggling.
“Shut the fuck up! You’re going to wake my parents,” says a familiar, albeit irritated voice.
“Fuck,” Ash whispers, dropping me like a sack of potatoes, right before Whitley, Asher’s ex, appears in the window. She lands in a pile at my feet, and she smells like alcohol and cheap perfume. When she notices me, her face morphs into one of total and utter disdain.
Dash climbs through after her—his preferred method of entry when he has a girl with him—and looks between us. It’s not exactly suspicion I detect on his face, but confusion. I feel the need to straighten my shirt or tame my hair, but I’m frozen, afraid of doing anything that will display my guilt.
“What’s going on?” he asks, concern coating his tone.
“A little help here!” Whitley slurs in her high-pitched, dolphin sonar voice. Dash rolls his eyes, reaching down to help her to her feet.
“She was looking for you. Wouldn’t take no for an answer,” Dash explains. “Figured you’d be here when we didn’t see your truck at yours.”
“I was just, uh, helping Asher with something,” I say. Dash reads the meaning of my words, and his head jerks toward Ash, assessing.
“You okay, man?” he asks, keeping it vague since Whitley is here.
“I’m good,” is all he says, and the two share a look that even I can’t decode.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Whit?” His tone is harsh, but hearing him call her by her nickname reminds me of the fact that they were close once.
“We need to talk,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest.
“The fuck we do,” Asher snaps. “Go home.”
“I can’t!” she protests, and I fight the urge to cover my ears. She’s always so loud. “I didn’t drive.”
“Jesus Christ,” Asher says, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Go wait for me in my truck. I’ll take you home.” Whitley wastes no time, probably knowing that he’d rescind the offer if she pushed her luck.
“Which is it this time? You pick a fight with some random asshole, or is your dad drunk again?” Dash asks once we hear the car door slam shut.
“The latter.”
“Does he look like you?” He gestures to his bloody appearance.
A devious smirk lifts the corner of his lips. “Worse.”
“Good,” Dash says solemnly. He hates this just as much as I do. It’s the most helpless feeling in the world, standing by and watching something so awful happen to someone you care deeply for, and not being able to do a damn thing about it. As much as I hate the thought of him leaving, I feel so much relief in knowing that there’s now an end in sight. “Call me tomorrow. I gotta take a piss.”
The moment my brother is out the door, Asher’s guilt-ridden eyes dart over to mine. “This was a mistake.”
“Bullshit,” I argue, moving toward him.
“Don’t,” he says, backing away, and I die inside, just a little.
And before I can pick my stupid, naïve heart up off the floor and form a response, he’s gone.
Chapter 1
Briar
“Are you sure this is a good idea, Briar? Maybe you should just come with us.” Mom tries for the tenth time today as she checks her lipstick in the hall mirror. I roll my eyes.
“I’ll be fine, Mom. You guys are moving to California, not Egypt.” Dad decided to merge with some new hotshot firm in Southern California. Vale and Associates is now The Law Offices of Vale and Pierce. I talked them into letting me stay here with Dash. Not without monthly visits and weekly FaceTime sessions, of course. Dash is a year away from getting his bachelor’s degree from The University of Arizona instead of Harvard next year, much to our father’s dismay. He agreed to come home and stay with me for the summer instead of staying in Tucson, contingent on my parents not being there.
“I’m serious. You call me the second you change your mind. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, Mother.” My relationship with my parents is a weird one. We love each other, but we’ve never been particularly close. My brother’s relationship with them is another story. It’s much more strained than mine. It’s always been Dash and me against the world. He’s always my best friend, brother, and protector all rolled into one. After he left for college, we inevitably drifted apart, but whenever he visited, it was as if no time had passed.