Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
“Hello, son. I see you got my message.”
“Hi. Um, yeah. I just got out of practice.”
I braced myself for the inevitable question about where I’d been beforehand and why I hadn’t returned his call sooner. But he had other things on his mind—specifically, how to take over my future.
“That’s nice,” he said dismissively before continuing in an excitable tone. “I spoke to the dean of the law school today.”
Great.
“O-kay.”
It wasn’t okay, but he wasn’t interested in how I felt. And he didn’t require much input from me, so I put the car in drive and headed home, grunting occasionally to let him know I was listening.
Ten minutes later, I parked in the lot next to my building and made my way to my place. The grounds of our complex had a Spanish-style-meets-contemporary design that Max and I both liked when we first decided to live together. Tall palm trees dotted the landscape and red bougainvillea added splashes of color along the stucco façade. I took the stairs to our third-floor apartment, so I wouldn’t accidentally cut off my dad’s call in the elevator.
“…if you complete your application by early November, I can personally hand-deliver it to the admin at the law school. She’ll want to see your transcript too.”
“Dad, you’re supposed to take the LSAT first. I won’t have time to do that until after my season ends,” I reminded him, sliding my key into the lock.
“I know it’s a lot, but if you started studying now, you could take the exam in late November. The timing would be ideal. By the beginning of the year, you’d have your near-term future set. You wouldn’t have to move or make any big changes. Of course, if you wanted to save money and live at home, you’re welcome to but—”
“Okay, thanks for the info. I’ll look into it,” I lied, pushing the door open.
I was immediately greeted by a low groan and desperate-sounding erotic dialogue.
“Please, baby, more. You feel so good.”
“Oh, God! Oh, fuck. Oh, yes—”
Holy crap! I scrambled to step outside and shut the door on the live-action porno happening in my living room. Hopefully before my father noticed.
“Where are you? It sounds like someone is hurt,” Dad commented.
“Uh, my neighbor is blasting his television again,” I replied, wincing at the muffled groans still audible through the front door.
“Hmph. Your apartment seems noisier than it used to be. You and Max should consider moving or—”
“It’s fine. Don’t worry. Um, I should go. I have a lot of studying to do.”
“Good. That’s the spirit! I copied you on the email to the dean. Take a look at it and we can talk later.”
He disconnected the call before I could reply. I cast my gaze from my cell to my doorknob, wondering how much time I should give them to finish up. Dammit, I hated when Max and Sky pulled this shit. I counted to ten, then inched forward and listened at the door for a few seconds before slowly opening it.
Apparently I was in time for the post-sex cuddle fest. Max’s arms and legs were wrapped around Sky and his hips moved in a languid rolling motion that probably meant he’d had an out-of-body orgasmic experience and wasn’t in a hurry to come back to reality. I hated that my dick instantly wanted in on the action. But who could blame me? Max and Sky were a gorgeous couple.
They were tall, handsome, and both were built like gods. Baseball gods specifically. They’d met last year when Sky transferred to Chilton. He was the much-anticipated new shortstop our school’s team needed, and Max couldn’t stop talking about him. Sky was fast, funny, and he loved sci-fi movies. Max hadn’t mentioned Sky was also extraordinarily hot. He was blond, blue-eyed, and had golden skin that complemented Max’s dark good looks. I knew I was considered handsome, but I had nothing on those two. And the day Max brought his new “friend” over, I knew our time was up.
It had hurt like hell for a while, but not now. In fact, I was strangely immune to my current situation. I stood in the foyer watching my ex-boyfriend fuck my replacement on the IKEA sofa we’d bought together with a sense of hard-won detachment. I wasn’t jealous anymore. I could admit they looked hot together. And I just hoped they’d remembered to put a towel on the cushion before they got busy.
“Hello,” I called out with an absent wave. “Don’t mind me. I’m just going to get something to eat and download some porn in my room.”
I set my bag on one of the barstools and skirted the small island before making a beeline for the fridge. I grumbled under my breath about inconsiderate roomies, controlling parents, and jackass teammates while I foraged for food. The container of leftover chow mein looked like my best bet. I grabbed a fork, two bananas, and a water bottle, then turned and immediately bumped into Max.