Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 124923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 416(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 416(@300wpm)
“Deal.”
“Plus, you’ll have Thayer. And hey, you never know, you just might secretly have a wicked stepsister, too.”
It’s her turn to reach into the bag and she throws a cookie at my face. “I have enough sibling drama as it is.”
“That’s an understatement.” I see my phone light up from the corner of my eye. I assume it’s going to be another message from my dad chewing me out about bailing on dinner, but it’s Holden’s name that pops up onto my home screen. I quickly snatch my phone up.
Holden: Miss me?
Me: Like a hole in the head.
Holden: You sure you haven’t been waiting for my call? That was a pretty quick response.
Me: Don’t flatter yourself. I’m with Shayne. I don’t want her to see your text and get the wrong idea.
Holden: Which would be…?
Me: That there’s something going on between us.
The three dots pop up and disappear a couple of times before disappearing altogether.
“You’re smiling at your phone,” Shayne says it like an accusation. “So that rules out your dad.”
“Am not.”
Holden: Let me come over tonight.
Me: I just said Shayne’s here. Not happening.
Holden: So if she wasn’t, you’d let me?
Shit.
Me: Go away.
Holden: Come over here then. I want to talk to you about something.
Here? Does that mean he is on campus?
Me: No.
Holden: Suit yourself. I’ll be over in 5. You know I have no issue with Shayne or anyone else hearing us.
Me: Fine. I’ll be there later. Ten o’clock.
Holden: If you insist.
God, he’s infuriating. And relentless.
Valen
It’s just after ten when I quietly walk out into the hall, closing the door softly behind me. Shayne went to sleep early after I helped her pack while we watched a movie. I stand in front of Holden’s door, making a mental list of all the things I’m going to say to him about how we can’t keep doing this, but the words die on my tongue when his door swings open and he’s wearing nothing but a towel. His hair is wet and hanging over his forehead. His forearms are braced against the top of the doorframe, bringing attention to his biceps. My eyes trail down his chest, not stopping until they take in the happy trail right above the knot in his towel. When I make it back up to his face, he’s simply smirking, patiently waiting for me to finish taking my fill.
“Nope,” is all I say before I do an about-face and march the three steps it takes to reach my door. Holden chuckles, his hand wrapping around my upper arm, and then I’m being pulled into his dorm.
“No?” he asks, shutting the door behind me. My back is against the wall with him towering over me—his favorite position, it seems.
I peer over his shoulder, looking for any traces of Ryan. His floor plan is a mirror image of ours, but the contents could not be more different. There are two black leather recliners in front of a mounted TV that’s far too big for the space with three different gaming consoles stuffed into the stand underneath it. A matching loveseat off to the side, pushed against the far left wall. In front of the loveseat is a glass coffee table. Aside from a bong, a pizza box, a container of protein powder, and a couple of empty water bottles, it’s surprisingly clean. It doesn’t smell either. In fact, all I can smell is the fresh scent of body wash wafting from Holden.
“No one’s here,” Holden says, answering my unspoken question.
Oh, goody.
Needing to regain the upper hand, I place my palm against his warm, still-damp chest and push him backward before walking over to perch on the arm of one of the recliners. “You wanted to talk to me about something?”
He nods, moving toward me.
“Good. Me, too,” I say, trying to keep my eyes trained on his instead of venturing south. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’ve never been so sex-crazed in my life.
“Ladies first.”
“Don’t you want to…get more comfortable first?”
“If you insist,” he says as his hand unties the knot of his towel and releases it. “There. Much better. Proceed.”
“That is not what I meant,” I say, reaching a hand out to catch his towel before it falls to the floor between us. “More clothes. Not less.”
“My bad.” His hand replaces mine on the towel, and then he’s walking into one of the bedrooms. “You can come in,” he calls out after a couple of seconds. The last place I should be is in Holden Ames’ bedroom. But curiosity gets the best of me, so I follow the sound of his voice. He’s standing in a pair of gray sweats and nothing else, somehow managing to look even more indecent than he did with nothing but a towel on.
His bed takes up most of the small space with a desk in the opposite corner. I walk over to it, looking at the few pictures he has. One is of him and Danny playing basketball. Another is of him with Danny, Thayer, and Christian, all with their arms around each other at The Falls. This one I recognize from the slideshow they played the night of Danny’s memorial.