Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
He raised his brow at me. “What does it look like I’m doing here? I’m here to pick you up, duh.”
God, he was too fucking hot for his own good.
Tall with broad, muscular shoulders, he was everything someone would ever want in a man.
Someone that wasn’t me.
Because I knew the real him.
Those thick, muscular thighs wouldn’t convince me. Nor would that red fucking beard or those damn blue eyes. Or those godforsaken lips.
Nope. No. Nuh-uh. Been there, done that, don’t want the fuckin’ memory of it.
And when I say ‘been there, done that,’ I mean, I’ve been around him, I’ve done the whole spending time with him outside of Sara, our best friend. And I didn’t like the guy.
Not in any way.
I thought he was a pretentious asshole who could use a swift kick in the ass. Preferably one that knocked him over into a vat of boiling bug feces.
“Why are you in here specifically?” I clarified, knowing damn good and well that he was going to force me to get to specific eventually.
He was an asshole like that.
“I need you to help me with a drunk tank test.” He rolled his eyes. “Which I damn well know Sara has already told you about.”
I glared at him.
“I mean, why are you here right now?” I waved the fake eyeball at him. “I still have to put this in.”
And I’d like to get the skin in place today, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen.
Beggars couldn’t be choosers when their car was in the shop.
Speaking of…
“Do you happen to know why my car is still in the shop when all it needed was a single freakin’ tire?” I asked sweetly. “And why, after it was in there, it suddenly sprang an oil leak, and they were forced to replace a head gasket on my motor, a seal on my transmission, and replace some spark plugs? Oh, and let’s not mention the fact that I asked for one tire, yet they put on four tires.”
Not even a single twitch.
The ass.
I knew that he’d had something to do with it, yet the mechanic that was working on my car wasn’t talking.
“Because I was already on my way down here before I got any text telling me to take my time,” he said. “Not to mention, we have like thirty minutes to be there. And I have to stop at my place first to get my car.”
That car.
That was one thing about Davis that I loved. His car.
He drove a 1968 Pontiac GTO.
He’d gotten the thing from a neighbor that lived across the street from Sara when we were growing up. When Davis had hit it big, he’d gone back to that old neighborhood and had offered the old man a fortune. Which the old man had taken.
Now, Davis drove around in the car I used to have wet dreams about when I was a young girl.
See, I knew my shit when it came to cars. I’d been taking care of my own since I was old enough to reach the pedals in my dad’s Buick Skylark.
Needless to say, I found it funny as fuck that KD tried to take care of me when I could damn well take care of myself and my cars.
I’d had issues with the car I was driving for a while now.
And since my mom had decided to steal the one that ran well, I’d been stuck driving the old one until we either found my mother or the car that she likely pawned at the very first stop she got to.
Yes, my mom and I had issues.
My dad died when I was seventeen years old. From that point on, my mother had fallen into a depression that ruined our lives. She traded our rent checks for blow. She hustled the fuck out of any man that would give her the time of day. And instead of giving us a fair shake, she’d gone out of her way to make life a living hell for us.
At the age of eighteen, I’d had no other choice but to write her off.
That didn’t mean that she didn’t still show her face, though.
Like just last month, she’d decided to come to Accident to “reconcile.” In actuality, she’d wanted to lie low for a couple of days, steal some things to pawn, and take off again before whomever it was caught up to her and demanded whatever she’d stolen from them.
Meanwhile, I was down a car, four hundred bucks cash, and several electronics.
I didn’t know why the hell I still fell for her shit.
I guess, deep down inside, I was still wishing for the woman that she once had been. Not the woman she now was.
“Are you gonna glue that fuckin’ eye on or what?” Davis asked.
I rolled my eyes and glued the eye in.