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)
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I tell her, grabbing the only other towel off the shelf and handing it to her.
I want to masturbate. Badly. But I won’t tell her that.
She smiles, happy enough to shoot her shot.
“Did you get the necklace?” I ask.
She nods, wrapping the towel around her body.
“Lock your doors, understand?” I pinch her chin, forcing her to pay attention. “There are eyes everywhere on this street, keeping an eye out for your safety, but that doesn’t mean your old friends won’t try to come for you.”
Farrow will try to stop them, but not if he’s passed out. She needs to lock up and be alert.
I take my phone off the sink counter and turn to open the door, but she speaks up. “I could sleep at your house,” she says.
I look over my shoulder at her, heat pooling in my stomach. She’s not safer in my house.
I narrow my eyes. “You stay here.”
She shrugs, and I open the door, shuffling her through.
“There were some men’s joggers in the closet when I got here. If you want them,” she offers.
“Yeah.” I follow her into the hallway, toward her room. I’d rather not walk outside in a towel.
But I only take three steps when I crash into her.
“Dylan, what are you doing?”
She’s stopped in the hallway, and I follow her gaze to the first floor below.
Farrow, Calvin, and Constin stand in the foyer with beers, surrounded by other students talking and laughing as music plays. But nearly everyone’s attention is on us as Calvin holds up his phone, filming.
“Goddammit,” I growl.
I push Dylan across the hall and into her room, and then I swing back around the banister and charge.
“Delete it,” I snap.
People scurry out of the way, girls squealing, some giggling as Calvin hurriedly types. “Just a minute…” he sings.
I back him into the wall, and he finishes posting, throwing up his hands in surrender.
“Give me the damn phone.” I grab it out of his hand and press the Power button, but there’s a code to unlock. I glare at him, slamming the phone back in his chest. “That’s great. Thanks a lot.”
At least one person has screenshot it by now, I’m sure.
In two seconds, my phone starts buzzing, and Farrow laughs. “Is it Kade?”
I look down, seeing Hawke’s name. Nope. Worse. He’s already seen the picture—a pic of Dylan and me, coming out of a bathroom half-naked together—and if he doesn’t rip out every follicle of hair on my head, her dad will.
“Go!” I shout. “Everyone out!”
Farrow chuckles, leaning on his friends as everyone piles out into the street.
“Yeah, glad y’all are having fun!” I fire back, slamming the door behind them.
They just laugh louder.
My phone keeps ringing.
I hold the wheel with one hand, swiping the screen and ignoring my uncle Jax’s second call with the other.
Hawke’s called and texted, my mom’s called, and I’ve gotten a slew of texts from Pirates. Nothing from Kade.
And nothing from Jared.
Perfect. It means he’s still asleep and missing the action.
I shouldn’t have been dumb enough to shower with her while people were in the house. It should’ve just been us.
Next time, it will be.
But I don’t know if I could take it again. I need more. I need to see her with my hands. God, she’s beautiful.
I cruise down Fall Away Lane, porch lights and lamp posts lit up to boast the beautiful orange, red, and yellow leaves on all of the trees. Lawns of green, with flower beds and small vegetable gardens, pepper the air with the scent of herbs and perfume, and a light stream of water coasts down the pristine gutter, emptying into the sewer.
There are parts of the Falls that aren’t so clean, and parts that are wealthier, but while I loved my house growing up, I was always a little jealous of Dylan’s neighborhood. Not just because these homes look like houses do on sitcoms, but also because you have friends who live next door. Or a few houses away, maybe. You have everything you need. Trees to climb. Streets to ride bikes.
And this was a perfect neighborhood for trick-or-treating in the fall and block parties in the summer.
Dylan grew up with people everywhere around her.
At my house, I’d just had Kade.
Which was great, until it wasn’t.
I pull up to the curb on the other side of Dylan’s house and shut off the engine. Gazing out my driver’s side window, I take in the dark Trent house, except for the lanterns lit up on both sides of the front door, and a dim light coming through the living room window. It’s the small light above the stove, streaming out all the way from the kitchen.
Jared’s old Mustang Boss 302 sits in the driveway. It’s not his only car, but it’s still his favorite. He likes it to stay visible.