Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 30855 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 154(@200wpm)___ 123(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30855 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 154(@200wpm)___ 123(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
She wished he was, but life didn’t always have a way of going the way someone wanted it to.
* * *
Rebel had to be in class in the next twenty minutes, but he wanted, needed to talk to Rosie. He hated that she was upset because of him, but he wouldn’t have changed his reaction to Charleston, either.
He pushed the doors open and stepped outside. The sun’s glare caught him in the eyes, and he turned his head until his vision cleared.
Turning his head forward, he scanned the grounds, not seeing Rosie, and was about to head back inside, but then he froze, everything in his body tensing as he saw the new guy sitting with her over at the row of tables.
He curled his hands into fists at his sides, and felt his rage and jealousy rise. Rebel knew, right here and right now, this wasn’t about Charleston making his instincts rise up, but the fact a guy was talking to Rosie.
Rebel loved her, and having some guy, especially some new punk, sitting close to her, making her smile, royally pissed him the fuck off. Making this low sound in the back of his throat, all Rebel saw was red.
He shouldn’t have gone toward her, should have been stronger in that regard, because truth was he knew this was going to end up badly. But Rebel couldn’t stop himself.
And then he saw Charleston reach out and touch her on the hand. He saw Rosie’s cheeks turn red, watched her pull her hand away as her embarrassment came through full force, and he was beside Charleston in the next second.
Rosie made this startled sound and looked up at him. Rebel stood behind Charleston, the guy not turning around yet.
“Rebel?” Rosie said softly, but Rebel was now looking at the guy, his anger not dimming as he kept picturing him touching Rosie, even if it was innocently.
“Can I help you with something, man?” Charleston said, but didn’t bother turning and facing Rebel.
“Yeah, you can get your ass away from Rosie.”
And then Rebel saw the corner of the asshole’s mouth lift as he reached out and stroked Rosie’s cheek. “I’ll call you about that tutoring.”
Rebel grabbed his shoulder, but Charleston was already standing and shrugging off the hold.
“Watch it, asshole,” Charleston said low enough Rebel didn’t doubt he was the only one to hear.
“Don’t fucking touch her, look at her, hell, don’t fucking think about her.”
Charleston smirked, and Rebel wanted to cold cock him right now, just knock the little shit out. But he held back, knowing Rosie was watching this, probably uncomfortable as fuck.
“I know guys like you.”
Rebel lifted an eyebrow. “Guys like me?”
“Guys that rule the school, start shit, and never back down.”
Well yeah, Rebel wasn’t about to deny any of that.
“I know guys like you because I’m the same way.” And then Charleston pushed past Rebel and went into the school.
For a second all Rebel did was stand there and watch the asshole walk away. Yeah, he’d had a bad feeling about Charleston, and now he knew why … because he was just like Rebel.
He looked at Rosie and saw her eyes were wide, her shock clear. “What the hell was that about?”
All he did was shake his head, because he didn’t know what to say, or how to explain his jealousy.
Being honest was what he wanted, but he was too afraid of it ruining things.
Chapter Six
Rosie tapped her pencil on her desk in her bedroom, staring out the window. She couldn’t see anything because of how dark it was outside, and she couldn’t focus because she was thinking about Rebel, and the encounter that happened at school.
What had gotten into him? Why was he acting like this, seemingly all of a sudden? Did he really dislike Charleston so much that he’d order him not to touch her or even think about her?
It seemed extreme, but Rosie also couldn’t lie and say having Rebel so protective didn’t please every part of her.
But he’d been distant the rest of the day, had dropped her off, but had left right away. What was going on inside of him that he couldn’t talk to her about?
Was it the drinking, the partying … God forbid, drugs? She resolved that she’d talk to him tonight, to see what was wrong, make him talk to her, tell her what he was going through. They weren’t just living under the same roof, they were best friends, and she’d remind him of that.
They’d known each other nearly their whole lives, and that had to count for something, right?
But what if it’s a girl? What if he’s found someone and is uncomfortable talking to you about it? What if it’s not just a piece of ass for him?
She needed to not think about that because she’d just end up driving herself crazy. No, she’d talk to Rebel and that was the end of it. She was tired of pretending, of not thinking she could be happy.