Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 94579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
I sit up, mind racing. “Wait, you were being serious? You drove an hour to pick seashells?”
“Yes.” He’s impatient now. “Can you focus on the trip here?”
I press on my stomach to quiet the nerves. It rolls and protests expectantly. “Rowdy, why are you doing this to me?”
“Because I’m a selfish asshole and I want to see you.”
The heart inside my chest goes from constricting to thumping wildly with excitement and happiness and a whole list of other things I will categorize later when I don’t feel like hurling my guts out from nerves.
“Sterling…”
Jeez, what would my parents say if I hightailed it down to Florida? Not that I’d ask them for money to buy a ticket, but still—I’m twenty-one. Going to see a guy on break is insane, right? Would my dad let me do it?
You don’t need permission, Scarlett, you’re an adult…
“You know you want to. I can tell you’re thinking about it.” He lowers his voice, and it’s soft and silky. “I know you are.
“Well of course I want to! Who in their right mind wouldn’t?!” But just because I want it doesn’t mean I can do it.
Can’t I?
“Before you flat-out tell me no, would you do me a favor and at least talk to your parents? Be spontaneous with me, Scarlett.”
Be spontaneous with me.
Nevertheless, I huff. “Peer pressure isn’t going to work on me Sterling Wade.” My chin goes up. “Besides, I’m an adult—my parents stopped bossing me around when they started making me pay rent.”
That’s right: you don’t need permission, you’re an adult.
“Then what’s stopping you from saying yes?”
I stare at him through one eye, squeezing the other one shut dubiously.
“Where would I sleep?” To my own ears, I sound breathless.
His grin is crooked, white teeth shining. “Guest room?”
He sticks his tongue out like he’s just swallowed a bug.
Even making that face, he’s good-looking. “The guest room, huh?”
“Donald and Hannah Wade said you can sleep in my room if you want to be surrounded by all my trophies.”
Heart, meet throat. “You actually asked your parents if I could come down?”
“What? Did you think I was going to surprise them with some random girl I picked up at the airport? Of course I told them about you.” He yawns again. “For your information, my mother spent an hour creeping on your Instagram. She didn’t want me to bring a cleat chaser into the house.”
His mother was looking through my pictures? Oh god.
“By the way,” he adds nonchalantly, “she thinks you’re adorable.”
“Adorable,” I deadpan.
“She thinks you’re adorable. I think you’re sexy.”
“Wait, you follow me on social media, too?” How did this never occur to me before? I follow him but hadn’t thought about him following me, and apparently I missed the notification.
I flush.
His brow furrows. “I mean…yeah?”
I shake my head; this whole situation is entirely surreal.
“I still think this whole thing is nuts.” I say it slowly, trying to convince myself but failing miserably.
Rowdy senses the weak chink in my argument and takes advantage. Cajoling with that low voice of his that makes my skin shiver.
You don’t need permission, Scarlett, you’re an adult.
“You want to say yes, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“What’s the problem? Don’t you have a passport? Because a regular ID will work, too.”
“I have a passport…”
“Then say it,” he murmurs. “Say yes, baby.”
“Yes, baby.” I can’t even tease with conviction—I want this trip so bad.
“Stop fucking with me, Scarlett. Be serious for a second.”
The poor boy, his eyes bear a guarded expression I’ve never seen from him before, and it occurs to me that he’s vulnerable. There is nothing about his gaze that says he’s messing around with me. Rowdy is dead serious; he wants to see me. He’s eyeing me so intently, I have to glance away toward my closet.
I bite down on my bottom lip. “You must miss me, huh?”
“Yes,” is his emphatic reply. “All I fucking want is to see you.”
My nod is small but firm. “All right.”
He goes still. “Wait—so you’re coming?”
“Yes.”
Brows shoot up. “Yes?”
“Yes, Rowdy—YES.” How many times do I have to say it? “I’ll come down to Florida.”
Oh god, I’m doing it! I’m going to freaking FLORIDA.
“Mom!” Rowdy suddenly shouts, holding the phone out, and I notice for the first time that his bedroom door is open. “Scarlett is coming to Florida!”
From somewhere within the recesses of his parents’ house, I hear a female voice shout back. “That’s nice, sweetie!”
I’m going to meet his parents!
I’m going to see the ocean!
I’m going to see Sterling.
That’s when I freak out—on my bed, kicking my legs like a maniac. Beneath the covers, exuberant and excited, the sheets flying all over the place as I squeal. And kick and toss and turn and squeal some more, wanting to scream for my mother, who’s probably in bed reading a romance novel.
“Did you know…when you kick your legs like that, your boobs bounce? Thanks for wearing a tank top.”