Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“And secondly, why the fuck would you waste toilet paper like that? Don’t you know that shit is precious?” At my confused look, he rolls his eyes and explains. “One day, the apocalypse is going to come and toilet paper is going to be the first thing to go.”
“Bullshit.”
“Fine, don’t believe me, but don’t come running to me when you’ve wasted all your shit house paper on dickheads like this and have nothing left to wipe your nasty ass with.”
“Fine,” I groan, still thinking he’s an idiot. I mean, surely toilet paper would be the last thing on people’s minds during the apocalypse. “Then do you mind letting us in on the actual, non-beginner plan?”
Damian grins wide. “I’d rather just show you.”
Slade drives around to the back of the school and before I know it, we’re sneaking in through a hole in the fence while the boys each wear a backpack filled with who the hell knows what.
Slade grabs my hand and drags me along, making sure to keep in the shadows of the buildings until we’re standing in front of the chained door of the boys’ locker room. “Damn,” Damian grumbles, grabbing the chain and flicking it around. “This thing gets bigger every time we come here.”
Slade grins as he dumps his backpack on the floor and pulls out a huge pair of bolt cutters. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
He gets to work as Nessa and I drool over the way his muscles bulge out of his arms. The chain breaks and instantly falls to the ground, letting the door swing open.
Slade tosses the bolt cutters down beside the chain and grabs his backpack, following Damian and Blake inside.
Nessa and I follow along and are instantly hit with the god-awful smell that the boys don’t seem to even notice. I glance around, still trying to work out the game plan when Slade pulls out another pair of bolt cutters, this time small enough to have been slipped into the front pocket of my jeans. He hands the tool to me before indicating to all the padlocked lockers around us. “What are you waiting for, Virago? Justice needs to be served.”
Well, well, how could a woman deny her crazy side?
I swing the bolt cutters around my fingers, and with an excited smile, I get to work.
Twenty minutes later, we jump over fallen lockers, scramble through the trash on the floor, and climb over the flipped benches as we race our asses out of there. Who would have known that trashing their locker room would have made me feel so good? I feel a little devilish, a tad wicked, and damn it, I’m kinda turned on.
The boys howl with laughter as we make our escape, me and Nessa struggling to keep up with their long strides until I’m thrown over Slade’s shoulder and Nessa’s being dragged along by Damian.
The rush pumps through my veins and by the time we’re crashing back into Slade’s Dodge RAM, Ben, and his betrayal has completely faded from my mind…at least, for now.
Chapter 20
I throw the ball toward the hoop with my tongue hanging out in concentration. It flies in a less than perfect arc, hits the backboard and the rebounds straight into the back of Damian’s head as he stares off at the big-breasted chick running past in the shortest bike shorts and training crop, her titties bouncing in every possible direction keeping him absolutely mesmerized.
“The fuck?” Damian grunts, spinning around to glare at me, rubbing the back off his head. “What was that for?”
“Hey, I didn’t do it on purpose,” I demand, wondering why he assumed it was me. I mean, Blake, Nessa or Slade could have made a shitty shot like that, not just me.
“Uh-huh,” he says, not believing a word I say as he strides toward the ball and scoops it up. It’s instantly thrown at the basket, going straight through and making the shot that I would have had to attempt at least twenty times to make.
Damian catches the ball as it bounces and runs back toward the hoop, launching into the sky and dunking while pointedly looking toward his big titty friend, trying to gain her attention.
I roll my eyes and leave him to it, knowing there’s no way in hell I’m going to get that ball back. Slade sits on the bench, rolling my pencil between his fingers, keeping his eyes trained on my body.
He absolutely loves it when I join in on the court. It’s not as though my skills are exciting, if anything, I provide him entertainment. What I’ve come to realize is that he watches me because he likes me joining in and showing interest in what he enjoys. It probably doesn’t hurt that I’m spending quality time with his best friend. There’s nothing worse than those couples who don’t get along with each other’s friends. That shit is bound to cause problems.