Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 152045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 760(@200wpm)___ 608(@250wpm)___ 507(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 760(@200wpm)___ 608(@250wpm)___ 507(@300wpm)
I laugh, but yeah, she’s right. I’m not that brave.
“That wasn’t us!” she shouts to whoever is listening, making a big show of pointing at Calvin. “If anyone is listening, that was him!”
We reach the car, and she growls at him. “Put it back.”
“Fuck, no.” He opens the door. “It’s free.”
We climb in, turning off our flashlights, and we’re gone before I realize I still have the key in my hand.
Hunter
If she loved me, she’d hold out hope. She would try. Yeah, holidays and parties will suck with Kade pissed off—and I don’t want him to be hurt—but those events won’t be any less awkward now. Every time I see her, I’ll want her, and she’ll know it.
I close my eyes, rolling my neck as I move to the chest press. I blow out a long breath, trying to get her out of my head.
Coach told us to stay out of the gym and rest, but we leave for the game in a few hours, and I don’t want to be home with Farrow. Best to stay busy.
I hear cars through the auto shop door peeling out of the parking lot, classes today were a mess as no one’s mind was on anything other than the game. The cheer team and band are eating sandwiches catered by a few of the parents up in the gym, and my team is carb-loading at Fletcher’s, whose wife helped him make the guys breakfast for dinner. Eggs, rice, oatmeal, turkey bacon, and potatoes.
I should be with them. It would distract me, at least. Dylan hasn’t spoken to me since the pool party Wednesday night, and I haven’t pushed her, either.
Two days.
She didn’t tell me she loved me back.
I’m not going to say it again, and I’m not going to force into her space like I did Monday after school every time I want to fuck. It’s not enough.
I sit on the bench and start the presses, wishing it was tomorrow already. I’ll wake up, knowing we already won, and I’ll start working on my application to Chicago again, gearing up to start my life at the end of the year. There are other girls out there for me.
“Kade won’t be tiring himself out before the game.”
I pause, hearing Dylan’s voice behind me. She came in through the auto shop.
I continue moving my arms up and down, tightening every muscle. “Just warming up,” I tell her.
I hear her footsteps on the padded floor before she’s coming around my side to face me. I stare ahead, but I can tell she’s still wearing what she wore to school today. High-waisted jeans with a vintage brown and pink Sukajan jacket, crop top underneath. She hasn’t gone home yet. I imagine she’ll be changing into Pirate gear for the game.
She stares down at me. “If you win, what happens?”
I grunt, pushing the bar up. “We’ll feel good.”
“You will?”
I don’t meet her eyes. Yeah, it’ll feel good. It’ll actually feel great to shut him up.
She slides her hands into her pockets. “If you lose, what happens?”
I drop my hands, hearing the bar clang back into place. I shoot my eyes up to her as I rise. “Get out.”
I grab my towel and move toward the rowing machine.
“If he wins…” she says, following me. “Did you even think? After the game? What happens then? If he wins?”
I slam my towel down on the floor and turn to glare down at her.
“What are you going to do when you’re standing on the field, sweat dripping down your face, out of breath, watching him celebrate with his team?”
I lock my jaw so hard my teeth ache.
“He’s going to feed off that high for years,” she goes on.
No. I refuse to wake up tomorrow, knowing I lost.
“He might win,” she continues, “and I’m going to go home, and what will you do then? Keep running, thinking your happiness is out there somewhere, and always feeling second place, because you learned nothing? Because you thought winning a game would beat him.”
“Stop.”
“Because you wrapped all of your value into proving something to someone who never loses, even when he does.”
“Stop,” I grit out.
“Because doing this for the wrong reasons will make me see you as less than a man.”
Motherfucker…
I spin away from her, grab a barbell, and throw it into the mirrored wall, glass splintering and cracks spreading two feet long.
I shake, still seeing her behind me, calm and watching.
Less than a man…
I’m not doing this for the wrong reasons. Everyone needs to prove themselves at some point. I don’t…
It’s not wrong to want to succeed and have him see that and then watch me walk off the field without a backward glance, like it all meant nothing.
But I hesitate as she stands there, and I feel a trickle of sweat glide down the back of my neck.