Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 129986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
“It doesn’t matter,” she states. “She’s on my shit list, and that’s that.”
I shake my head and text back Aubrey to let her know Anae is definitely capable of something like that. She may not seem like a techie, but over the years of airbrushing imperfections out of her photos and her life, she’s become pretty technologically adept. The Photoshop job in the video was crude as hell, but it was supposed to be.
“There you are. I need another drink,” Anae says, grabbing her empty glass off the end table and holding it out as if a maid just appeared on the scene.
I look up and see Hannah Dupont in a blue one-piece swimsuit with a towel draped over her arm. She averts her gaze when we inadvertently make eye contact.
“I didn’t know you guys were out here. I was just going to go for a swim.”
Anae shakes the glass. “Swim all you want, just get me a drink first.”
Hannah is awkward with the towel, starting to drape it around her shoulders, then clearly considering her waist. I smirk because it seems like my presence is making her uncomfortable. She turns around and disappears inside the house without a word.
Anae scoffs. “She’s so fucking useless, I swear to God.”
Annoyed, she puts her empty glass back down and resentfully resumes reading her book. Hannah comes back out a couple of minutes later to get it. She’s wearing a bathing suit cover that does what the towel didn’t—hides her from me.
She takes Anae’s glass and glances at my bare chest in passing, but doesn’t look me in the eye. “Do you need anything?”
I shake my head slowly. “I’m good.”
She nods and heads in the house to get Anae a refill.
Curious, I wait a moment so it’s not obvious I’m going after her, then I tell Anae I have to piss, and I head inside the house.
This is the girl my mermaid didn’t want me to notice. I suppose I can see why. Hannah Dupont is a pretty nice package. She’s short, probably only about 5’2”, but her body is top tier, she’s got this soft blonde hair you want to reach out and touch, and most puzzling of all, she’s kind. I’m not talking the type of kind where she makes inspirational social media posts to cast a certain image—she’s truly, deeply kind-hearted and just seems to have a gentle soul.
Seems to me, a soul as gentle as hers would be too easy to tear apart. She doesn’t interest me, personally, but I can see why Aubrey likes her.
“Hey.”
Hannah jumps, startled, and looks back at me over her shoulder.
I stop behind her at the kitchen counter.
I can feel how nervous that makes her.
“Hey,” she says, her tone light, but tension lying just beneath the surface. “Did you change your mind about that drink?”
“No. I’m not thirsty.”
“Okay.” Since I’ve told her I don’t want what she offered, she sets about ignoring my presence and walks over to the refrigerator.
I lean a hip against the kitchen counter and watch her. “You’re friends with Aubrey, aren’t you?”
She looks vaguely annoyed at me for asking. “Yes. New friends, we haven’t known each other for very long.”
I cross my arms. “What do you think about that video Anae posted?”
Hannah sighs, reaching for a pink straw from a tube of them on the back of the counter. “I think you’re very cruel to drag Aubrey into Anae’s path when you know what she’s capable of.”
That’s fair. I smile faintly. “You don’t like me much, do you?”
“If I’m making a list of my favorite humans, you’re not on it,” she answers.
My smile widens. “Even your ‘fuck yous’ are nice. I like that. You can keep being her friend.”
“Ugh.” Hannah rolls her eyes. “Thank you so much for your permission, King Dare.”
“Has she talked to you about me?”
“If she did, I wouldn’t tell you.”
I smirk. “All right, then.” I push off the counter. “Well, it sure was nice talking to you, Hannah.”
She shoots me a look before I walk away, but doesn’t bother returning the polite nicety.
Chapter twenty-two
Aubrey
I’m curled up in bed, unable to sleep because I’m dreading the alarm going off so much, when I hear a tapping noise on my window.
It’s a soft tapping, but there’s nothing close to my window that should blow against it. Fear creeps up on me as I look over at the glass. It’s dark out there, but it’s dark in here, too, so I can see the shadowy silhouette of a man standing there.
My heart leaps, but then he moves and I realize it’s only Dare.
Relief floods my system. I throw back my blankets and climb out of bed.
I can’t remember the last time I opened this window. Maybe never. I turn the lock and lift it up, gazing at him with an expectant look on my face. “May I help you?”