Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
How did I not notice he slipped into this class?
And since when is Voss smart enough to be in the same classroom as Naomi?
She’s the brains, and he’s the jock. How they ever came together is still surprising as shit.
I look down at his notebook. Empty. No notes. Fucking idiot. Because I have a death wish, I tear off a corner of my notes. Neatly, I write out the words, “Did you get lost, bro?” I crumple the note and then toss it right at him. It bounces off his ridiculously hard chest—barely hidden by a red, stretched-out Blood Gators Football T-shirt—and rolls across his desk, undetected by Garrison.
Voss’s chilly demeanor burns hot and violent as he tears his stare away from me to unwrap the note. His hands are massive and capable, used to deftly grabbing the football straight from the air as the school’s star receiver.
Anticipation ripples through me as I eagerly wait for him to get my message. Seeing him lose his shit this morning before class was empowering. Now that his façade has a huge crack in it, I crave to exploit the man he has hidden beneath.
As he reads the note, I admire his profile. I may hate the guy, but it doesn’t change the fact he’s hot as fuck. His jawline is sharp and seemingly chiseled from stone. I move my eyes from his jaw to his throat, where his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. The note gets crumpled into his fist, causing veins to pop up in his muscular forearm. I’d love to see his fist wrapped around something else, like his dick. My fantasies are often destructive ones. Thinking about your soon-to-be stepbrother whacking off is pretty fucked up.
I’m supposed to be normal.
He'll keep me around long after I graduate.
Shit.
Too late now.
I’ve already poked the beast, and judging by the way his entire powerful body tightens with fury, I’d say I’ve done it now.
He can’t attack me in class.
Garrison would destroy him.
Voss is a lot of things, but being careless isn’t usually one of them.
Just as I assumed, his blue eyes slice my way, burning through my chest like lasers. An evil smirk tugs up one corner of his full lips. It’s filled with the promise of devious intent. He turns his attention from me and goes back to lazily drawing things on his girlfriend’s back. My breath finally rushes out after a few uneventful moments.
That was anticlimactic.
I expected anything but to be ignored.
Garrison says something that grabs my attention, and my mind is back to unraveling calculations to the problems he’s explaining on the board. Canyon Voss may have gotten lost on his way to jock math and ended up in here with the brainiacs of the school, but I’ll be damned if I let him distract me from my perfect record.
Dad loves when I make straight As.
Everything I do is for Dad.
Voss can go to hell.
I’m pissed by the time I get to lunch midway through the day. That motherfucker has somehow managed to get into every damn class of mine so far. How I’m unsure, but I want to wrap my hands around his corded with muscle neck so I can choke the life out of him.
Leon is already sitting at our usual place by the time I make it out of the lunch line. I stride over, throwing myself into the chair next to him. His lunch tray is piled high with all kinds of shit he’s steadily making his way through.
“You notice anything weird?” I ask Leon, grimacing at the way he inhales his fries like they might walk off his plate if he doesn’t hurry.
“That Canyon Voss has infiltrated all our classes?”
I let out a rush of relieved breath. “Yes. Fuck. I thought I was the only one to notice.”
Leon bristles. Of course, he would notice. Naomi is in all the classes with us—always has been—but now her boyfriend is in the way. Leon can’t openly stare at her the whole hour, fantasizing about the two of them, because now Voss meets him with a challenging glare that warns him to look away.
“He’s just trying to get to me,” I mutter, though I’m not sure if that’s really the reason or not. “Guess you heard about this morning?”
Leon grunts. “That he almost kicked your ass? Yeah.”
“It was a mutual almost ass-kicking,” I argue. “His stupid head almost met my violin case.”
He laughs, the sound deep and rumbly. “I would’ve paid money to see that shit.”
“How much you got?” I waggle my brows at him.
“You take IOUs?”
“Yeah,” I say with a wide grin and rise to my feet as Voss enters the lunchroom with Naomi tucked against his side. “Here goes round two.”
I grab for my violin case, but Leon’s massive hand grips my arm, dragging me back down.