Total pages in book: 184
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
I grip the sleeves of his jacket. “Shep, listen, there’s something you need to know. There’s—”
“I want you,” he says, his eyes on me, penetrating, dark. “I want us to be together. I want what other people already think we have and they do, don’t they?”
They do.
They do.
And that’s the whole point.
Oh my God, that has been the whole point all along.
I wanted that.
I wanted them to think we were together, Shepard and I.
I wanted the world to think we were a couple.
It didn’t start out that way, though.
When I asked him to dance with me on my birthday a year ago, that was all it was going to be.
One dance.
A few minutes of flirting and that’s it.
A few minutes of talking and laughing together and pretending that I was into him. As it turns out, I was—just as a friend, though—because I genuinely found Shepard wonderful and amazing.
But when that one dance wasn’t enough, I deliberately started showing up wherever Shepard went. I deliberately started taking an interest in soccer games and practices. I purposely made dates with Shepard and showed up at team events and parties.
All because of one thing and one thing only: him.
The Cold Thorn.
Who feels as hot as wildfire.
To make him jealous. To move him. To melt him.
To get him to eat his words from that night.
To get him to kiss me.
Like a selfish, immature girl with a heart swollen with too many feelings, I pursued him with a one-minded devotion. I pursued him with everything in me, uncaring of consequences, unbothered by the means I was using.
Means being his twin brother.
I thought it was the perfect plan. I thought even though the world thought we were together, Shepard wouldn’t. I thought a player like him—with pre-season rituals and one-night stands galore—would never be interested in me.
But I should’ve known, shouldn’t I?
My mom calls me a slut for a reason.
She calls me a temptation to men. She says I’m the one who provokes them into doing things, and that’s what I did here. That’s what I always do.
I use men.
And while I never felt bad about that before, I do now.
I feel bad for using Shepard. For throwing myself at him to make him jealous.
For making him want to be with me while every time I dance with him, I imagine it’s his arms around me. I imagine him finally being overcome with jealousy and claiming me with a kiss.
God, I’m awful.
I’m an awful human being.
“They do,” I whisper at last.
Shepard watches me for a few beats and I know I could use this silence to finally tell him the truth about me. But like a coward, I stay silent too.
I wait for him to say whatever it is he’s going to say.
And when he does, I blink in confusion.
“Our first home game is in eight weeks,” he informs me.
“First… Okay.”
“You’ve got until then to decide.”
“D-decide what?”
“Whether you want to be with me.”
“Whether…”
“Because as it turns out, patience isn’t my strong suit.”
I run his words in my head over and over.
I try to make sense of them.
I know it’s there, right there, the implication of things, but it’s taking me some time to figure it out.
Then, “Are you… Is this an ultimatum?”
His jaw clenches, stubbled, unlike him. “Yes. Because I don’t think I can take it anymore.”
“Take w-what?”
“Being your friend.” Then, studying my face, “Just your friend.”
My fingers tighten in his suit jacket.
As if I can stop him from doing this. As if I can stop him from making commands he already has. “Shepard, I—”
He steals my words when he says, “I love you, Isadora. And I want you to be with me.”
Then he bends down and places a soft kiss.
On my forehead. “Good night.”
And then he turns around and leaves.
I should go after him.
I know that.
I should stop him from leaving.
I should tell him the truth. I should put him out of his misery.
If he knows the truth, he’ll hate me and that’s better than wanting to be with me, isn’t it?
Isn’t hate better than love?
Oh God, he loves me.
Loves.
It’s the worst. Because I know what it feels like. I know what it feels like to be in love with someone who doesn’t love you back.
I know.
I also know I can’t go to him yet. I can’t.
I have to…
I have to go to him.
For some reason, I need him in this moment.
When I glance at those doors, though, he’s not there anymore. He’s gone and I have to find him.
I have to find my wildfire.
Chapter 3
I shouldn’t be doing it.
I shouldn’t be searching for him when my best friend’s in pain. When the reason he’s in pain, unbeknownst to him, is because of the man I’m going after.
Because of these crazy feelings I have for him.
Not to mention, searching for someone who claims to be colder than this winter night is not advisable.