Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
“You’re too young for a club party,” I told Holly, which was kind of unfair. We were the same age. But I wasn’t like other high school seniors. I’d been born old, and the club was in my blood. The guys would eat Holly alive.
She took a step closer, the move almost predatory. Then a wave of her perfume hit me. Heavy and musky, and not in the good kind of way. I flashed back to the last time I’d fucked her.
That shit was potent, and it didn’t wash off.
“You sure about that?” she asked, raising a hand and placing it on my chest. Then her eyelashes started flapping. The move was supposed to be sexy, but it came off more like a butterfly having a seizure.
“Not gonna happen,” I said, reaching up and gently pushing away her hand. Then I turned toward my locker. We still had a few minutes to make it to class, but the conversation was over.
Holly didn’t take the cue to leave.
“What do you think Mark sees in her?” she asked, sounding annoyed.
“Who?” I asked, then realized I’d fucked up. I knew damned well who she was talking about. Peaches and Mark McDougal had been dating for a month. Quarterback and cheerleader—the perfect cliché. They made out in the hall and sat together at lunch. It was cute and adorable and complete bullshit.
Mark was fucking at least two other girls on the side.
“Peaches Taylor,” Holly said. “I know she’s hot as hell, but she’s not gonna fuck him. She’s still a virgin.”
“Why do you care?” I asked, keeping my tone casual. I’d been wondering if Mark had gotten to her yet. Fucker. “Nothing to do with us.”
Holly laughed. “This school is too small for you to get away with that, Eli. You’re hung up on her.”
I turned back to her, frowning.
“My uncle was kinda her stepdad for a while. He likes me to keep an eye out for her. That’s all.”
Holly raised a brow, calling silent bullshit. “You’re not going to invite me to that party no matter what I say, right?”
“Nope.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Okay, then will you at least mention me to Bryce? I heard he’s single again.”
“You don’t want to hook up with Bryce.”
“Not your decision to make,” she countered. It was a good point, but Bryce was thirty years old. Not only that, he had four kids by four different women. Holly and I had never been anything more than casual, but I had enough respect for her to think she could do better. “And I know it’s none of my business, but if you turn around right now, you’ll see what Mark’s about to do to the girl you don’t care about.”
Keeping it casual, I grabbed my bag and then turned around, taking in the hallway full of students doing everything but studying. Part of me noted Jenny Woelfel and her pack of mean girls huddled off to the right, sharpening their knives.
On the left was a clump of cheerleaders and football players. Peaches and Mark were with them. Mark stepped into Peaches’ space, herding her back toward the wall of lockers, using his bulk to surround her.
He might not’ve fucked her yet, but he would soon.
I swallowed, reminding myself that she was sixteen now. It wasn’t my place to step in, regardless of what Gus said.
“Wanna tell me again that you’re not hung up on her?” Holly asked, her tone light and mocking. I didn’t bother denying it this time. Jesus Christ, but I hated the way Peaches looked at him. Of all the guys she could choose, why him?
Mark McDougal was a piece of shit.
A spoiled, entitled asshole who’d never had to work. Never suffered or been alone.
Never had to fight for a goddamned thing.
His dad was a lawyer. Sleazy as hell, and a bully, too. Fucker sued anyone and everyone, draining their pockets until they settled with him just to make it end. He’d even gone after one of my club brothers over a fifty-dollar oil change at his garage.
Now, Mark was leaning down into Peaches, one of his hands rubbing up and down her arm as he whispered something to her.
She flushed, all pretty and nervous and giggly. Clueless. She was nothing more than a trophy for him. A pretty, popular toy to fuck for a while until he got bored or left for college.
Sure, I wanted to fuck Peaches, too. But I also wanted good things for her. Well, mostly good things. I wanted to do a couple of bad things…
Mark’s head tilted, and I watched as his lips covered hers. The kiss started off soft, but within seconds, their bodies were pressed together all the way. Then the hand that’d been tracing her arm reached down to find her ass, gripping one cheek tightly. If she’d been wearing anything but jeans, his fingers would be buried in her ass. Whatever hatred I’d felt before doubled. Tripled.