Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
The man could probably guess and he’d be right. What he doesn’t get to do is judge me, and the fact that he is is all over his face.
I walk away from him, forgetting about breakfast, and head to class.
I should skip. Having an eight o’clock class on a Monday morning was the worst idea ever, but when I made my schedule, I still cared about my future. All of that changed the second I watched my sister’s video. She harped on me to not get a job my freshman year at college because I need to focus on school. She made sure to remind me that we didn’t have the money for me to fail a class and need to take it again.
I shove down that part of me that wonders if she’s doing creepy porn because she’s trying to pay for my education. I quickly conclude that she’d never do that, but then again, I never thought she’d be the kind of girl to do porn in the first place. The video proves otherwise.
Class begins and ends with me being no more knowledgeable than when I first entered this morning, but I refuse to feel guilty about it. What does irritate me is that I wasted an hour of my life when I could’ve easily crawled into my bed when I got back to my dorm this morning. Being the good girl comes with its own set of muscle memory, however.
Blaine is sitting on the bench right outside of my room, and it frustrates me even more. It’s not that it’s anything different from what he’d normally do. He always meets me out here, but for some reason, I’m no longer impressed with it.
I had every intention of eventually giving in to him because Blaine is safe. He comes from a good family. His parents are still alive and still married. He’s normal if not a little boring. It should be exactly what I’m striving for—comfort and safety.
“Hey,” he says, his eyes a little downcast.
I take a deep breath, wishing I was a big enough asshole to tell him to fuck off, but honestly, I’m more of an asshole for keeping him around. I know he has it in his head that he loves me, but I think he just loves the idea of me. We’re friends, but I’ve never given the boy the impression that there would ever be an us.
“I hate it when you’re mad at me,” he says, holding out a blueberry muffin, my favorite. “Forgive me?”
I take the muffin, my stomach growling as I give him a small smile. “Forgiven.”
I’m not a mean person, despite the thoughts I have. I’d respect him more if he gripped me by the throat and told me I was going to be his whether I liked it or not. I can’t really fault him for not being an aggressively violent jerk just because that’s what I seem to be into after last night.
“I thought you guys were heading out,” Blaine says as we leave the science building.
I pull my gaze from searching for the man and notice Landon and Rick approaching.
Landon looks me up and down as if he’s trying to determine if I’m hiding injuries or something. “Glad to see you’re in one piece.”
There’s a hint of something misplaced in his tone as if I’ve asked him to protect me, only to turn around and put myself in danger. It’s as judgmental as the way Blaine was looking at me earlier.
“On that note,” I say and break away from the group.
I pull my hand away when someone reaches for it, but the grip only tightens. I gasp when I look, expecting to find Blaine trying to stop me from walking away from him for a second time today. Only it isn’t Blaine.
I stare into dark, unforgiving eyes. “Hi.”
The word comes out on a squeak, and I feel foolish.
He doesn’t say a word as he pulls me toward the parking lot.
My pulse is racing as the guys call my name from behind me, but my feet move, obeying him without a word leaving his lips. He opens the door to his truck with a growl, using more force than he did last night to urge me up onto the seat.
I look, seeing Blaine, Landon, and Rick rushing toward me as he climbs behind the wheel. He doesn’t give them a second glance before he squeals out of the parking lot.
“That was rude,” I snap, rubbing at my sore wrist. “You hurt my arm.”
He doesn’t look at me as he leaves campus.
We don’t drive long, but like an idiot, I spend the time in the truck with him glaring at the side of his face rather than figuring out where he’s taking me. It’s utterly foolish to think just because he didn’t hurt me in any way I didn’t like last night that he isn’t capable of doing that today.