Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 156392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 782(@200wpm)___ 626(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 782(@200wpm)___ 626(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
“What do you want, Eli?”
“From you? Nothing.”
“And yet you’re haunting me like a vengeful ghost.”
“More like one of those mischievous ones that scare the loving fuck out of you just for laughs.”
“Haha. There, I laughed. We done?”
“You’re supposed to be scared.”
“Oh, hold on.” I throw my hands up and shield my face, mimicking watching a horror film. “I’m so terrified. So scared. Get me out of this B movie scene. Is that enough for you tonight?”
“Your strap has fallen.” He motions at my chest.
I slap a hand on it instinctively before I look down and see that the strap is perfectly in place.
A nick of annoyance mounts on top of the previous copious levels of annoyance and I narrow my eyes at him.
“It didn’t? My bad.” He doesn’t sound apologetic in the least. “But then again, you wouldn’t have had to worry about it if you weren’t dressed like a stripper.”
“I’ll call when I have any fucks to give about your opinion of me.”
“You’re funny.”
“And pretty and popular. Your point?”
“Delusional, too. Apparently.”
“Nah. I leave that to you.” I hike a hand on my hip. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have better people to spend my time with.”
I walk past him, head held high and ready to tuck this unfortunate encounter away with all the previous ones.
“I heard you made a fool out of yourself today. Again.”
My heels click on the floor as I come to an abrupt halt and turn around to face him. All of a sudden, I’m thirsty. For alcohol.
Or anything that’s able to soothe the dull ache at the back of my throat.
Crossing my arms, I adopt my most mocking voice. “Whoa there, soldier. Slow down on the stalkerish tendencies, would you?”
“Don’t even try to sass me, Ava. What was it this time? Your pills malfunction?”
“Screw you,” I snarl.
“I’m not interested in contracting the nest of STIs from the losers you fraternize with.”
“They’re no worse than your fuck buddies.”
“My fuck buddies are always tested, unlike the drug addicts you mingle with. And don’t try to change the subject. Why did you flee this time? What did you see? Or not see?”
My lips part and I stare at him like he’s an alien. What does he know? How does he know?
It doesn’t make sense.
Sure, since our families are close and his mum is my godmother, he’s aware of my condition. But like everyone else, he must think it’s depression, anxiety, and some mild case of psychosis. He could deduce the meds, and considering his stalkerish habits, he could figure out the alcohol and the occasional drugs.
But that’s it.
There’s no way in hell he’s privy to what’s eating me from the inside.
I lift my chin. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
He narrows his eyes. Gray. Stormy. Calculative.
I can see him concocting a plan to coax me to talk, but even if that doesn’t work, I’m sure he’ll force it out of me. Even if I kick and scream.
Especially if I kick and scream.
“Speak, Ava. Don’t make me resort to unpleasant methods we both know you’re unable to handle.”
A lick of heat sneaks its way beneath my dress, and the room’s temperature takes a sudden hike. My throat dries and it’s exceptionally difficult to swallow.
“I didn’t know you were this concerned about me.” I flash him my sweetest smile. “I’m touched.”
“Concerned? More like embarrassed.”
“You’d have to care to be embarrassed by my actions and we both know that emotion doesn’t exist in your arsenal.”
“It exists in my mother’s. She called me to ask about your, and I quote, ‘worrisome state of mind.’”
The thing I hate most about Eli is that his mother is Elsa King. Aka my godmother and second mother figure after Mama.
Sometimes I can’t believe a considerate, absolute green flag of a woman actually gave birth to this devil. I’m surprised he didn’t eat her while he was in the womb like some parasite.
“I’ll talk to Aunt Elsa myself. You stay out of it.”
“Only if you stop being such a disgrace. You’re becoming an embarrassment to your family. I’m certain your ex-prime minister grandfather will disapprove of your scandalous lifestyle if it’s printed in gossip magazines.”
I grit my teeth so hard, my jaw hurts. “Thanks for the touching concern. You might want to stop being so obsessed with my life. Desperate doesn’t look good on you.”
“Because it looks better on you?” His lips tilt in that infuriating way again, and it takes everything in me not to slap it away.
“If you’re done…” I start to walk to the exit, but he steps in front of me, blocking the light, the door, and my oxygen.
Eli first and last touched me four years ago, when I was seventeen, and ended my birthday, turning it into the most shameful disaster.
Since then, he never does. Not even accidentally. But that doesn’t stop his heat from engulfing me and his smell from invading my every sense.