Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 98992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Suddenly, it swings open, and she smiles wide at me. “Hi you.”
“What the fuck do you mean hi you?” An itch appears underneath my chin prompting me to immediately scratch it. “You don’t know my fuckin’ name anymore?”
Her face twitches in confusion. “Wha-”
“Were you fucking expectin’ someone else?”
“I-”
“Are you hookin’ up with someone else, Pres?!” Paranoia pushes me to start looking over her t-shirt covered shoulder. “He here? Is this motherfucker here?”
“Whoa,” she whispers out at the same time she gently touches my heaving chest. “Relax, Ry. It’s just us.”
“Good.” My body pushes past hers to storm into her house. “I’m fucking starving.” The slow stroll into her house is accompanied by another twitch, this one of the eye. “I don’t remember the last time I fucking ate.”
“Was it-”
“Can you speed this shit up?” I gripe while rolling my finger around in circles to mimic the rate of movement she needs to be moving. “I’d like to get somewhere before they’re all out of fucking food.”
An unexpected pounding begins pumping in my head damn near causing me to miss her response, “Yeah. I’ve been waiting for you. I just need to grab my phone and purse.”
“Then fuckin grab ‘em.”
Unhappiness flashes on her face, yet she doesn’t say another word.
I wordlessly follow behind, eyes scanning her living room for the little shit I doubt her parents would even notice was missing.
Pawning some of this shit could score me a few bucks.
Ivo only deals in cash, ass, and favors that fit his flavor of needs, but Spanky is the pawn king. Pretty sure his dad’s a professional fence given the way his ass moves the most random profit. He takes a small cut, but fuck, who doesn’t?
Everyone’s gotta make that green.
Including me.
Just not so sure I should take something from a house where the people in it probably notice when an extra pump of goddamn toothpaste is missing.
Never thought I’d say this but part of me is thankful as fuck we won’t be living together for a few more months.
I don’t look forward to that shit.
And no amount of hand jobs can change my mind.
Leaning against the door frame of her room, I scratch the new itch near the base of my neck before grunting, “Can you fucking pay? I’m broke.”
“Again?” her voice half-heartedly questions.
“Sorry, princess, but maintaining two fucking girlfriends is pricey.” I try to keep myself from adding anything else but fail. “Besides your precious fucking Mommy and Daddy can still afford to give you cash when your tutoring bullshit falls through. Mine are a little too tied up with divorce lawyers to give a shit about their kids. So…just fucking deal with it, okay?”
Pres leans against the edge of her bed, new concern caked on face. “I know this shit is hard on you.”
“It’s not.”
“Ry.”
“What?! It’s fuckin’ not! I’m not the one gettin’ the goddamn divorce!”
“It still affects you.”
“Not much.”
The bitter change in my tone and volume cause her to sweetly ask, “You wanna talk about it?”
“I wanna fucking eat! That’s what the fuck I want!”
“Ry,” she cautiously begins, keeping her distance despite my feet somehow moving me closer, “are you okay?”
“I just told your ass that I was fucking hungry.” More pounding in my head pushes me to give a soothing rub with my thumb. “Why don’t you listen to me? Why don’t you ever fucking listen when I talk?”
She tries to keep fear out of her voice. “Are you…fucked up right now?”
Not answering her question simply makes Pres get louder which is the thing I need with this pain in my brain.
“Did you…Did you really come to take me to dinner fucked up?”
“What if I fucking did?” A shrug escapes me as I arrive in the space in front of her. “What the fuck does it matter if I had a little fun a few hours ago?”
Presley’s jaw cracks in speechlessness.
“What the fuck does it matter if I get a little fucked up – or a lotta fucked up, Diamonds are tricky that way – and then did a little fucking – or a lotta fucking because they were begging me for it?”
Horror continues to increase.
“You jealous?” Poking her disgust feels both right and wrong. Too bad for her, I’m still leaning into the right shit. “You wanna get on your knees and beg me for it, too?”
“I want you to get the hell out of my house.”
Her rejection stirs rage that I can’t keep inside. “Why!? Because you can’t fucking handle the fact, I’m out there fucking whoever I want while you’re home ‘saving yourself’ for me?! Waiting for us to ‘be ready’? Fuck, being ready!” Irritation soars just as ecstasy did a couple hours ago. “I’m ready now! I’m a fucking adult, out here, ready to do some adult fucking!”
Sadness that should silence me creeps into her eyes as she whispers, “Get the hell out of my house, Ryder. Now.”