Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 167204 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 557(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167204 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 557(@300wpm)
“I can’t fucking lose you, Brynn.”
I can’t read any more.
I’ve felt better since I left school, more energized, but reading those texts, seeing him feeling some of the same stuff I hate that I’m feeling…
It sinks me low again, and I crawl forward to put my phone on the bookshelf separating Addison’s side of the room and mine.
It’s been a long couple of days, and I really just need to get some sleep.
___
On Wednesday I manage to stay present in my first class.
I think about going to the gym afterwards. I could certainly use the endorphins.
But I get halfway there and change my mind, so I head for the library to do some studying before my next class.
Just as I’m about to enter the building, someone comes out, so I take a step back.
And then I stop short when I see it’s Aiden.
“Oh, hi.”
“Looks like you’ve seen a ghost,” he quips.
I roll my eyes. “Almost. I haven’t heard anything about you since the fire. Wasn’t sure what happened.”
“Yeah, I figured I should probably lie low for a while after that so your crazy boyfriend didn’t feel compelled to finish what he started.” He lets that sit there for a second, then he says, “Well, I guess he’s not your crazy boyfriend anymore, huh? I heard you broke up.”
“Yeah.”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out keys. “Thought you might need these.”
My eyes widen slightly, and I reach for them. “My car key.”
He nods, shoving his hands back into his pockets. “I parked it over by the dining hall, close to the front so you’d be able to find it. I didn’t do anything to your car,” he assures me, shaking his head.
I believe him. “Thank you,” I say, though belatedly I realize since he’s the one who stole my car in the first place, he probably isn’t owed gratitude for returning it.
Still. I’d given up on ever seeing it again, so this is an enormous relief.
Aiden nods.
“I can’t get you a meeting or anything like that,” I say a touch awkwardly.
“I know,” he says. “It’s not about that.” Then, a touch more playfully, he says, “Believe it or not, I am capable of doing things without ulterior motives.”
I crack a smile. “Are you though?”
He smirks, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Guess you’ll just have to trust me and see how it pans out.”
“In the interest of mutual trust, I should probably also tell you Killian was planning to buy me a new car, and I don’t think he will appreciate you helping me gain independence from him.”
He shrugs. “I’m not afraid of Killian.” He cocks his head in consideration. “I guess the guy did try to kill me, so maybe I should be. I don’t know, the fear center in my brain’s all fucked up. In any case, I don’t care.”
“Well… watch your back.”
He starts down the stairs, then turns back to face me when he gets on the sidewalk. “Don’t worry. I always do.”
___
While I did have to give in and shower in the shared bathroom this morning before classes, I have vehemently refused to go downstairs for anything.
There is a mini fridge full of bottled water on this floor with a fabric basket full of packets of salted almonds on top for emergency snacks, so I grab some and come back to the room to have those and a granola bar for dinner.
But, well, that’s depressing, and life is depressing enough right now.
Addison told me I was free to go downstairs and help myself to food if I wanted to. I’m not on their dining plan right now, but she assured me they won’t say anything about it. I haven’t wanted to because I’m worried girls will feel weird about me being here or I could bump into Sloane, but… well, I don’t want this to be my dinner, either.
So I make the walk downstairs.
I try to keep my head down and avoid notice as I enter the kitchen.
There’s a line in front of a buffet area where girls are getting food with workers on the other side, but I’m feeling too self-conscious about getting in the line, so I wander over to the counter where you can get food without talking to anyone. I grab a snack bag of pretzels, then I go over to the tower of fresh fruit and grab a tangelo. Then I grab a little pre-packed bowl of grapes and cheese, and since they have a coffee machine, I make myself a French vanilla coffee.
More satisfied with my makeshift dinner, I grab a couple of napkins and start to make my way out to the dining area, but I freeze when I hear Sloane Whitley’s voice on the other side.
“Why should it bother me that she’s here? They had a fling, and now it’s over. The end,” she says lightly.