Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
“Does he know you saw them?” Corrie asks, still giggling. “Oh my god!”
I sigh.
“I don’t know. His back was turned. He went to pick up a coaster that fell on the ground, his shirt went up, and there they were. I half expected to see crack,” I said, fanning my face. “But nope. It was a diaper.”
“No way!” Corinne’s laugh bounced off the bathroom walls.
“Yep. That’s when I decided it was time to go.”
“So you just walked out?” she asks.
I shake my head.
“Of course not, I finished my drink and made some lame excuse about studying. Then, I grabbed a taxi and went home. I’m a nice person, Corrie. I wouldn’t call attention to something that’s obviously totally embarrassing. Besides, look what happened to me this morning! It would be the pot calling the kettle black.”
“Speaking of which, your bangs look almost normal now,” Corinne said, smiling. “We better get to class.”
“I guess I have to face the piper eventually,” I say, sucking in a deep breath.
“Well, I’m sorry your date with Marshall was so awful,” Corinne says, holding the door for me. “It would have been nice to be able to double date sometime.”
“Maybe,” I reply ruefully, handing Corinne her jacket back. The pale blue denim reminds me of a pair of jeans Hunter wears sometimes. It’s not that ugly acid wash that a lot of guys are into. Instead, it’s a softer tone that looks comfortable and worn as it hugs his ass just so.
God, why do I have to think of Hunter’s ass even now? I was truly pathetic. Yet, the image of that blue denim hanging loosely off his hips burned into my corneas, and I sigh again.
“You okay?” Corinne asks as we exited the restroom.
I glanced at my friend. She waved at some people she knew, her long blonde hair fluttering in the wind. It was so easy for Corrie, and she didn’t even realize it. Corinne was just like Angela, only nicer. But still, sometimes the differences between us made me jealous.
Without waiting for an answer, Corinne turns to me with a smile.
“Hey, I’m going to catch up with you later if that’s cool,” she says, her eyes slipping to a handsome guy to our right. He grinned back at her, and she seemed to perk up. Nodding, I smiled wanly.
“Sure thing,” I said. After all, some of us live in the real world, and some of us are stuck in fantasy land. Unfortunately for me, Hunter Brody is only a fantasy, but that’s what I have to content myself with.
3
Hunter
The cushions of the couch moan as I shift my weight for the thirteenth time in the last half hour. Why I let Angela get away with the things she does is beyond me. I should have just told her “no” and been done with it. We broke up after all, so why am I still such a wuss?
But nothing is ever that simple when it comes to Angela Lauder. Instead, I found myself saying, “Sure, I’ll come over. What time?”
So here I am, waiting in her apartment. I’m here to pick up my stuff, and to give her back some of her stuff. I want this relationship to be over and done with, but relationships can be difficult to unwind sometimes. That woman left so many random things at my place that it filled two boxes, which I put in her room. There were trinkets, multiple toothbrushes, a couple of outfits, and even her retainer. Yes, Angela Lauder wears a retainer at night. That’s why her smile is so perfect.
I should leave, but instead, here I am like an idiot, sitting in Angela’s apartment with nothing to do. I could leave her key on the table and just lock the door behind me, but I’m too much of a nice guy. I want to put it in her hands so that she doesn’t claim that “it got lost” and find some excuse to see me.
I want to be free of Angela Lauder.
Suddenly, a sound from the back of the apartment startles me from my trance. Is someone home? I thought I was alone, but then again, I didn’t check to see. I hear some bumps and groans, and get up with a worried look on my face. Holy shit. It sounds like someone’s hurt.
Quickly, I stride down the hallway to where the bedrooms are. Angela’s door is shut tight. She told me she’d be at cheerleading practice, so I know she’s not home. Her sister Catherine lives across the hall from her, and her door is slightly ajar.
I’ve never really talked to Catherine. Nothing more than the occasional “Hello” or “Nice to see you,” but that’s all. I’ve noticed her though because the brunette is beautiful in a way that makes my mouth water. She’s the opposite of her sister: whereas Angela is all skin and bones, Catherine is soft flesh and generous curves. I’ve even caught myself accidentally fantasizing about Catherine when I’m literally in bed with Angela. It’s taboo and so fucking forbidden, but that’s why I like it.