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)
“It’ll be under my pillow,” he says. “House will be unlocked.”
He grabs a towel, dries off, and pulls on his clothes again.
Is he leaving? Seriously? “Hunter, please.”
I want the vibrator tonight, actually.
“You know where it’ll be.” He grins. “Get some sleep. School tomorrow.”
Hunter
The next morning, I’m walking out of my bathroom in my sleep pants, rubbing the towel over my wet hair. Alone.
I thought for sure she’d come last night.
I thought she’d sneak into my bedroom a half an hour later, unable to sleep, because she was too worked up.
But no. She just went to bed after all that and didn’t need more. Unlike me. It took me for-fucking-ever to finally drift off, especially because I just wanted to get to sleep, so I could wake up to her climbing over my body to get at her vibrator underneath my pillow.
I’m not saying I’m mad. Just…frustrated. I guess the vibrator wasn’t better than her fingers because I woke up twenty minutes ago alone.
Or maybe she’s feeling weird about it after-the-fact. I’ve baked cookies with her. Taken swimming lessons with her. Shared giant pretzels at the fair with her. Maybe I shouldn’t have come on her. That was probably going too far.
It was like a frenzy, though. God, she was hot. And I still love the way we play. No matter how it changes.
“You okay?” someone asks.
I pop my head up, my heart skipping a beat. I stare at Hawke standing right in front of me on the second-floor landing of my grandfather’s brownstone.
“Dude, what the hell?” I blurt out, dropping my arm. “You scared me.”
I realize my eyebrows are pinched, and I probably looked in pain when I came out of the bathroom because I’m dying with my need for Dylan.
I drop the expression, heat stifling me as if he could tell what I was just thinking. Dylan’s his actual cousin, and Hawke is like Jax. They know things, and you don’t know how they know them.
Why is he here?
“How’d you get in?” I ask, looking downstairs for Rebels, but I don’t see Farrow or anyone.
“Secret entrance,” he tells me. “Dylan’s house next door has one too.”
Secret entrance? I head down the stairs, forcing him to follow me. “How do you know that? I don’t even know that.”
He doesn’t reply, and I walk into the dining room, tossing my towel on the table.
I look around. “Where is it?” I ask.
He just gives me a half smile. “Ask Dylan,” he tells me. “If she wants you to know, she can tell you.”
“Well, now I really want to know,” I bark. “I don’t need a team of Pirates invading my house in the middle of the night.”
“If I tell you, you’ll seal it, and Dylan might need to get in for her safety.”
Huh?
“Or get out for her safety,” he adds.
I arch a brow.
But he’s right. I will seal it. I don’t want my brother or his crew finding out and slipping in. Hawke will tell me once Rivalry Week is over.
“So, what’s up?” I ask as I walk to the window and pull aside the curtain. Hopefully he knows to hide his car.
But all I see is Constin leaning on his bike in front of Dylan’s house.
“I understand you were in Frosted the other night?” Hawke announces, browsing the books stuffed in the old curio cabinet meant for fancy china.
“You mean when Dylan disappeared through a wall?”
“Through the mirror,” he corrects. “Please keep that to yourself, okay?”
“You thought I would share that with the Rebels?”
I would never put Quinn’s business, or my family’s safety, at risk. And I certainly wouldn’t tell anyone, no matter how much I trusted them, before talking to Dylan about it.
I release the curtain and turn toward him. “So only our family knows about it then?”
“Some Pirates do.”
“But not me?”
“Man, we would’ve told you,” he retorts, “but it’s not exactly the kind of thing you call to divulge over the phone to someone you’ve barely seen in a year.”
Or to someone playing football for a rival school. “Fine,” I also admit, “And maybe, I would tell Farrow eventually.”
“No, fuck, please don’t do that.”
With the way his face scrunches up in disgust, I can tell he doesn’t think much of Farrow Kelly. I laugh quietly, because Farrow’s never going to be far away, I don’t think, and Hawke will have to contend with him more than he yet realizes. I glance at the Green Street tattoo on Hawke’s neck, which I learned he only has so they would let him have Aro without any more grief. “We’ll revisit this discussion another time,” I say.
He pulls a book off my shelf, holding up Algorithms to Live By. “Can I borrow this?”
“Sure.”
It’s his dad’s anyway.
“So, what is it?” I ask. “Behind the mirror.”
“Rooms.” He flips through the book. “It’s better to see it rather than try to explain it. But it’s related to the story of the house next door.”