Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“Allie Cat,” Caleb says, shucking the girl off his back, letting her land on the couch before coming in for a hug of his own. “What are you guys up to?”
“Trying to talk your lead singer over here into playing a new venue.”
“I’m in,” Hunter declares, clearly unconcerned with the specifics.
“Fuck yeah,” Caleb agrees. “As long as it’s not during finals.”
Hunter and Dylan share a look, and I know it’s because they feel like Caleb has one foot out the door. The band isn’t his life, like it is for Dylan and Hunter. I get the impression that Caleb is just passing time with the band until he graduates.
“Talk him into it,” I say, flicking my chin toward Dylan. “I’ve gotta go.”
Dylan stands, reaching into his front pocket for his keys. “I’ll be right back,” he tells the guys. “I’m gonna take her home.” The girls, now all three huddled up on the couch, eye fuck Dylan as we walk through the living room, but he doesn’t so much as acknowledge their existence.
“So, how are you liking your new digs?” he asks, once we’re on the road.
“It’s good for now,” I say, leaving it vague. “Getting to school is a pain in the ass, but it’s free and Lo’s cool.”
The distance between Dylan and Lo’s house is only a couple of miles, but with the windy roads through the woods, it feels much farther. “Turn here,” I say, pointing. Once we’re pulling into the driveway, Dylan turns to me, looking like he wants to say something.
“All—” he starts but stops when another vehicle swings into the driveway next to us. A black truck. And out comes none other than Jesse fucking Shepherd.
Dylan works his jaw and I close my eyes, dropping my head back against the headrest. “He doesn’t live here,” I say. I don’t owe Dylan an explanation, and he has no say in where I decide to stay or whom I decide to spend my time with, but for some reason, I get the impression that his feelings are hurt.
He bobs his head, not saying a word. Jesse, obnoxious as always, opens the passenger door.
“Going in?” he asks, ducking down so his face is visible. I shake my head at him, trying to convey that now is not the time.
“Go inside, Allie,” Dylan says, starting the engine back up. I look over at him, but he stares ahead, not meeting my eyes.
“Fine. Be a baby.” I step out of the car, sidestepping Jesse when he tries to help me. I hear Dylan pull out of the driveway before he flies down the road.
“You really have a knack for showing up at the wrong time,” I mutter.
“It’s part of my charm.”
I snort. “Whatever you say.”
“He has a lip ring. What is it, 1999? I did you a favor.”
I roll my eyes, pushing open the front door, noticing a duffle bag and a pile of clothes on the floor inside. “What’s this?” I ask, kicking the bag.
“My stuff.” He moves past me, bending over to throw his duffle bag over his shoulder.
“What are you doing?” I ask, even though I have a pretty damn good idea of where this is going.
“Putting my shit upstairs,” he says, like the answer is obvious, walking up the steps.
“Why?”
He pauses mid-step, looking at me over his shoulder with an infuriating grin. “Because I’m your new roomie, roomie.”
“What?” I ask, charging up the stairs after him.
“You heard me.”
“But why?”
“You ask a lot of questions.” Jesse passes my door, then the bathroom, before opening door number three. I follow him into the room I’ve never been inside before. Another empty room, this one doesn’t even have a bed. Because I have his bed.
“It’s convenient, don’t you think?” He tosses his bag into a corner unceremoniously before turning back toward me with a smirk, hands on his hips.
“Excuse me?” I cross my arms over my chest, ignoring the way my stomach flips at the way he’s looking at me.
He moves toward me, and instinctively I step backwards until my back is flush with the door. “I want you. And I’m sick of playing this game.”
I swallow hard, feeling the warmth of his skin without even touching him. “That’s not why you’re here,” I say, calling his bluff.
“No,” he admits. “But it definitely sweetens the deal.”
“You had your chance. The offer’s expired.”
“Is that so?” he asks, moving closer. “And what’s changed?” He pinches my chin between his finger and thumb and tilts it up so I’m forced to meet his gaze.
“Everything.” I don’t know why my voice comes out as more of a whisper. I can’t think when he’s this close. I notice a faint red mark on his cheekbone. Without thinking, I reach forward, brushing my thumb over it. Jesse sucks in a breath before clamping his mouth shut. When my brain catches up to my actions, I drop my hand to my side. “What happened?”