Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
He tossed his head back on the couch, patting the girl’s ass to get her out of his lap. “That was the best dry humping I’ve had since I was twelve, and you just ruined it.” He dug in his pocket for his phone.
“Aw, hell to the fuck no!” Hendrix shouted from across the room. He pushed the now-naked girl out of his lap, adjusting his dick before storming toward me and snatching Wolf’s phone from my hand. “She can fuck off. She left your ass. After you went to jail for her.”
My brother didn’t get it. But I didn’t expect him to. “Give me the phone, Hendrix.”
“No.” He fiddled with his crotch again. “She’s a bitch, Zepp.”
Before I realized what I was doing, I had nailed my brother in the face. He clutched at his nose, blood trickling down his chin.
His brows pulled together. “You fucking punched me!”
“You called her a bitch.”
His eyes narrowed. “She is.”
I nailed him in the gut, then Wolf pulled me off. “Hey. Dude. Hey. Calm down.” Wolf held out his hand, and Hendrix slammed the phone down in his palm. “They live in Sassnett dorm. Room 311.”
Hendrix grabbed the remote from the coffee table and chucked it at Wolf. “Oh, fuck you, you hairy sack of balls. You suck!”
Half an hour later, I parked in front of a tall, red-brick building. I had no idea what the hell I was doing, but to be honest, when had I ever known what I was doing when it came to Monroe?
I went to push open the glass door, but it wouldn’t budge. Through the window, I could see a girl behind a desk. I banged over the door, and a buzzer sounded, my muscles tensing because it reminded me too much of jail.
“Can I help you?” She grinned, shimmying up in her chair before her gaze skirted over me, head to toe. “Like the tattoos.”
“I need to see Monroe James. Room 311.” I swiped a hand through my hair, the nervous energy getting to me. “I think.”
“No can do. It’s past midnight.” She tapped a pen over a laminated piece of paper that read: No male visitors from 12:00 a.m. - 9:00 a.m.
I laughed. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“Wish I was.” She grabbed the book she had shoved to the side, opening it back up. The Notebook. Fine, she wanted to try and stick to her rules...
“Look.” I folded my arms over her desk and leaned toward her. “I just drove like eighty miles. And I really need to see her. I haven’t seen this girl in almost a year. I went to jail for her—”
Her eyes went wide. “You went to jail for her?”
“Yeah. I just got out, and I saw her in our hometown last week with another guy.” I let a frown settle over my face. The girl didn’t need to know the guy wasn’t a threat. “And I can’t lose her. I just really need to tell her I’m still in love with her.”
“Oh my God.” Her hand went to her chest, eyes softening. “That is so romantic.”
“Can you just…” I poked a finger at the sign. “Can you just let this go. For once. For love.”
She glanced up, then down the corridor. “I’m gonna take a bathroom break. The stairs are down the hall to the right.” She winked when she stood, then whispered, “Go get her,” before she walked off.
I booked it around the corner, shoving open the door to the stairwell and taking the three flights. The hallway light flickered on when I stepped into the corridor, passing several rooms before I came to the one with Monroe and Jade’s name in bubble letters on the front. No way in hell she did that. I bet it was Jonathan.
Sweat slicked my palms, nervous energy wound through my body. I loved her, but I had hurt her. And what if this was the last thing she wanted. I had to know, though. I raised my hand, pausing before I knocked.
The hinges creaked, and Jade’s face appeared in the crack doorway. She squinted. “Holy. Shit.” The door shut, and I raised my hand to knock again but heard her say: “Monroe. Fucking Zepp’s here.”
There was a mumbled exchange before Jade stepped out in an oversized robe. “I’m not staying in there for this shit.” Then she shuffled down the hall in her slippers. “And I don’t even wanna know how you got past the front desk.”
The dimly lit room reminded me of an oversized jail cell. Painted cinder block walls. Two small beds. A mini-fridge. A lamp clicked on, and Monroe sat up on the edge of the bed, all bare legs. And wearing the T-shirt I had given her the first night she stayed with me.
“What are you doing here, Zepp?”