Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
The edges of Madden’s lips sink. “There’s no need to be a prick just because you’ve got a hard-on for Carina.”
I drag a hand over my face.
He’s right.
I’m being an asshole and she’s the root cause of it.
Or, more accurately, my feelings for her are.
“Sorry.” I allow my head to fall back until it can rest on the cushion as I stare sightlessly up at the ceiling. “That girl drives me batshit crazy,” I mutter, forcing myself to say the words out loud.
From the corner of my eye, I watch as a slow grin spreads across Wolf’s face. “Now we’re finally getting somewhere.”
“No, we’re not.” My father’s comments from earlier ring hollowly throughout my head. “I’m wound tight and just need to get laid.”
“Yeah, by your stepsister.”
“She’s not my stepsister,” I grumble. “We’re not even related.”
Not really.
“Even better,” Madden says with a smirk, my shitty behavior from minutes ago already forgotten. That’s the great thing about him. He’s never been one to hold a grudge.
“For what it’s worth, I think you’d finally get her out of your system if you two would just smash,” Wolf adds.
“That’s a shit idea and never going to happen.”
The only reason she locked lips with me tonight is because I dared her to do it. While some things change, others stay the same. Can’t say it wasn’t completely satisfying to see the challenging light spark to life in her pretty blue-gray eyes. Maybe she wanted to turn me down flat, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
Wolf shrugs as Madden starts up another game and they both get sucked into the action playing out across the screen. Normally, listening to them shit talk while trying to outdo one another would be enough to lighten my mood.
Tonight, that’s not the case.
All I can think about is Carina.
Even worse, Wolf’s comments have weaseled their way into my brain and are gnawing away gleefully at the back of it.
He’s probably right.
It would be a hell of a lot easier to move on if we just knocked boots.
Unfortunately for me, there’s no way that will ever happen.
Chapter Nine
Carina
I’m about to flip the page of the paperback I’m devouring when there’s a knock on the door. With a frown, I glance toward the tiny entryway, debating if I can ignore the person on the other side. I just returned from work at On Pointe studio, and I’ve been dying to delve into this chapter all day. Things are just about to get spicy between the hero and heroine and I’m totally here for it.
Decision made, I refocus on the page. Whoever it is can come back when I’m not busy. Twenty seconds later, there’s another, more insistent knock which I promptly ignore. Although, I’m not going to lie, the interruption is yanking me out of the story and ruining my vibe.
When I fail to answer for a second time, my phone chimes with an incoming message. I huff out a breath and reluctantly glance at the screen.
Open up. I know you’re in there.
Ford.
Ugh.
I should have known it was him.
That guy can be such a pain in the ass.
Hmmm…unless he’s stalking my every move, he has no idea that I’m here.
Another message pops up.
I saw you walk into the building ten minutes ago.
Yup. Definite pain in my ass. I’ll be glad when this year is over and we graduate. He’ll work for Crawford, and I can take off, going wherever I want.
Maybe New York.
Or LA.
If my heart clenches at the idea of leaving the only home I’ve ever known, I shove it away, refusing to dwell on it. Crawford is the one I’ll miss.
Not Ford.
Never Ford.
Good riddance to him.
With a grumble, I set the paperback down and jump off the couch before stalking to the door and swinging it wide only to find my ex-stepbrother on the other side. A devilish grin lights up his face as if he’s thrilled to have disturbed my solitude.
“About time you answered.”
I bare my teeth and plant myself in the middle of the threshold, so he can’t saunter inside. “What do you want?”
“I’ve got a little extra time before practice and thought we could get a jumpstart on the project. The end of the semester will be here before you know it and I’d rather get as much done as possible before we start hitting the road.”
He’s right, damn him. Practice for the winter showcase will only intensify the closer we get to the date.
“Fine,” I mutter, wanting to make it clear that I’m not happy about getting stuck with him as a partner.
It’s only when his eyes meander down the length of my body that I remember I’m wearing tiny shorts that cling to me like a second skin and an athletic bra.
How is it possible for the heat of his gaze to feel more like a physical caress? It’s tempting to cross my arms over my chest to shield his view, but I’ll be damned if I give him the satisfaction of knowing that he made me self-conscious.