Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Between the outfit, the black ribbon in her hair, and her dark purple lipstick, she looks like some sort of grown-up, goth Alice in Wonderland.
Sexy beyond all reason.
I’m instantly rock hard.
It’s been way too long without her.
Blood rushes through my veins and my chest rises and falls in an erratic rhythm. The urge to pull her closer, kiss her until she’s dazed, flip up her skirt, and bend her over the dining room table beats through my blood.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What if Torch has the same thoughts when he sees her? How could anyone not? Jesus Christ, what if he touches her sexy legs? Every awful possibility flips through my head like a nightmare I can’t escape.
I curl my hands into fists at my sides.
There’s a strong possibility that I’ll kill Torch tonight.
“You look…” Mouthwatering, too sexy to leave the house… “pretty,” I say, stepping out of the shadows into the hallway.
She jumps. “Why are you skulking around in the dark?” Her pretty face wrinkles into a scowl. “And why don’t you ever wear a shirt?”
I glance down at my bare chest and then at her bright pink cheeks. “Why does it bother you, Muffin?” I ask in a low voice.
“It…N…no.”
I slide my gaze over her outfit, lingering on her legs. “Why don’t you ever wear longer dresses?”
She sucks in an annoyed breath, then slowly lets it out. Her hands drop to the skirt and all the lacy layers underneath, and she lifts the material a few inches.
Fire races over my skin. If she lifts any higher…it’s game over.
“Why, Griffin? Does it bother you?” she asks in a mocking but also somehow sultry tone.
I tear my gaze away from her legs and meet her challenging blue-eyed glare. “Yes.”
“Too bad.” She lets go of the dress and spins around, plucking a small black nylon backpack with skulls printed all over it off the hook by the door.
“Is Torch picking you up?” I ask.
“No.” She stuffs her phone in the front pocket of the backpack and marches past me.
Her cherry-vanilla scent compels me to follow her into the kitchen.
“We’re meeting there,” she says. “I’m heading to Hayden’s first.”
“Hayden’s going too?” Good, so it’s not just Molly and Torch.
“And Kyla and Darcy.”
Praise Jesus. The more, the merrier.
Molly opens the refrigerator and pulls out a bottle of water. “We’re all going as our version of a fairy tale character.”
She turns and faces me, raising a questioning eyebrow. Silently asking if I can guess her character.
“And you chose Goth Alice in Wonderland?”
She beams at me. “How’d you know?”
Pleased I put that smile on her face, I shake my head. “I don’t know. It was the first thing that came to mind. I love how creative you are.”
She glances down at her dress and tugs at the skirt. “I don’t know if I’d call it creativity. More like an excuse to wear my weird outfits.”
I lift one shoulder. “My only talent is punching people, so yeah, I think you’re creative. And definitely not weird.”
“Thank you.” Her gaze darts to the back door, then to me. “I have to go.”
I nod slowly. “Have fun.”
She opens her mouth, then closes it and shakes her head.
Then she quietly walks into the night without another word.
I don’t even wait for her to start the engine and back out of the driveway before I jog downstairs. I tear through bags of clothes I still haven’t unpacked yet, find an oversized black, hooded sweatshirt, and throw it on.
Like fuck is Molly walking around some creepy carnival all night dressed like that without someone looking out for her.
And whether she knows it or not, that someone’s going to be me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Griff
If I’m going to continue this new habit of following my girlfriend around, I really need to invest in a more stalker-friendly vehicle. The distinctive throaty rumble of the Chevelle forces me to keep too much distance between Molly’s car and mine. Thankfully, I know where Hayden’s house is and which roads they’ll take to the Old Miller Farm where the carnival’s being held.
Remy’s Ghostface mask sits on the seat beside me. Can’t have Molly see me following her around like a guard dog. Or worse, have anyone recognize me from the show.
The girls take two cars. Hayden’s BMW follows behind Molly’s little Bronco, and I try to stay a few cars behind them which isn’t easy on the narrow town roads. Once we get on the highway that leads to the farm, I’m able to stay back. Traffic gets heavier closer to the farm. This carnival has to be the most exciting thing that’s happened in Johnsonville in years.
I make the turn for the bumpy dirt road. Two cars ahead, Hayden slows to a crawl. The guy in the car in front of me lays on his horn.
Hayden’s middle finger appears out of the driver-side window. I huff a laugh at Hayden’s brazenness and reach behind my seat, quickly curling my fingers around my baseball bat in case the impatient asshole ahead of me decides to confront the girls.