Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Fenn: Miss you already.
My heart instantly beats faster. I’m such a goner for this guy. Like, dead.
“Who’s that?” Lucas peers toward my screen.
“Oh. Just Fenn.” I clear the notification before he can read the message.
“Yeah? What’s he saying?”
“Nothing. He’s going to the fights tonight to keep RJ company.” I grin. “I hear RJ wants nothing to do with his new leadership role.”
Lucas responds with a snort. “He doesn’t. But like it or not, he’s the new king of Sandover. Too bad my brother’s not here to enjoy the free pass.”
“What do you mean?”
“Duke took a cut of every sale Gabe made,” he explains. “Gabe was always livid about it. He was like, I’m the only drug dealer who can’t even enjoy all the fruits of his labor.”
“Drug dealer problems, amirite?”
Lucas laughs. “I mean, Duke was taking his cash for no reason other than Duke’s a greedy asshole, so yeah, I’d say that’s annoying. RJ, though—he wants nothing to do with any of the rackets. Ever since he knocked Duke out in that fight, guys keep trying to pay RJ, and he’s like, Leave me the fuck alone.”
I laugh too. “I swear, you Sandover boys are messed up.”
“Not all of us,” he protests. Then there’s a pause. “Are you and Fenn still hanging out a lot?”
He doesn’t know the half of it. In fact, no one knows that Fenn and I have been practically sucking each other’s faces off this past week. I can’t tell Sloane yet, not unless I want to be responsible for Fenn’s murder, and possibly my own. I don’t have a single girlfriend I can share the secret with either, since everyone at Ballard is dead to me and everyone at St. Vincent’s thinks I’m insane.
I don’t usually talk to Lucas about romance stuff, but I’m nearly bursting from the need to tell someone, and I can’t stop the confession from slipping out.
“We’re kind of dating now.”
His expression turns to shock. “Seriously?”
“Yeah,” I say shyly.
“Since when?” he demands.
I sit up, holding the pillow in my lap. “About a week. It just sort of happened. We were friends, but then we kissed and…” I bite my lip to stop another smile from splitting my face open. “Well, it’s a thing now.”
Lucas sets the remote on the mattress and shifts around so we’re facing each other. I can tell from his expression that he’s not thrilled by this development.
“Be happy for me,” I plead before he can voice his disapproval. “I know you don’t like this—”
“I don’t,” he agrees.
“But I’m asking you to support me on this.” I reach for his hand, wrapping my fingers around his. “I’ve had such a shitty year, Lucas. You know how bad it’s been.”
“I know.” His voice softens.
“There aren’t many rays of sunshine in my life these days.” I squeeze his hand, and after a moment, he laces our fingers together. “Your friendship is one of them. Sloane is one of them. And now Fenn. I really like him.”
“I get it. He’s Fenn Bishop. Every girl likes him, Case. That’s the problem.”
“If you’re implying he’s still sleeping around, I promise you he’s not. He’s been a player in the past, I know that. I’m not stupid or blind.”
“He has his own fuckin’ hashtag,” Lucas grumbles. “Player is an understatement.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “He has a hashtag?”
“Yeah. It’s ridiculous. Look.” Lucas fishes his phone out of his pocket and opens Instagram. He types something, then flips the screen over so I can see it.
My curiosity gets the best of me. Sure enough, #FennBishop is an actual hashtag. Fenn’s been tagged in what seems like hundreds of posts. Not all of them are from girls. There’s a lot of party pictures. Shots of him with Gabe or Lawson or Silas at some party or another. Shots of him on the soccer field, his golden hair shining in the sunlight, his features taut with concentration.
But…yeah…there are definitely photos of him with girls. Very pretty girls with their hands all over him. His arm slung over their shoulders. Lips locked in drunken kisses. It’s not the most flattering portrait of Fenn’s escapades before we got together, but it’s nothing he didn’t tell me about either.
“I know all this,” I say quietly, handing the phone back. “And I don’t care.”
“You don’t care.” Lucas sounds dubious.
“No. Fenn’s been honest about his past.” I scoot closer and rest my head on Lucas’s shoulder. “Give him a chance, okay? You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Fine,” Lucas says in a grudging tone. “I’ll try not to worry. But if he does anything to hurt you…”
“Then I give you permission to beat him up,” I say graciously.
“Thank you.”
I smile against my friend’s shoulder. “He’s been good for me. He really has. And he’s always upfront and honest, no matter how uncomfortable it makes him. I promise you, Fenn doesn’t keep secrets from me.”