The Coldest Winter Read Online Brittainy C. Cherry

Categories Genre: College, Contemporary, Forbidden, New Adult Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 114368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
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When I missed her, I straightened my hair so I’d see her looking back at me when I looked in the mirror. I straightened my hair a lot. She would’ve scolded me about doing it so much because she loved my natural curls, but all I ever wanted was to be just like her.

I saw her in my eyes as I finished getting ready to meet John. The thought of what would occur that night sent a wave of butterflies throughout my system.

I wish you were here, Mom.

I wished I had been able to call her after the engagement took place so she and I could’ve gone into wedding-planning mode. Missing her during the big moments felt extremely unfair.

Mom would’ve liked John. He was like me in many ways—structured, stable, and safe. He knew what he wanted from his life and where his road map led him.

I was supposed to meet John at his dorm room in an hour so we could head out to dinner, but the nervous flurries shooting through me made me head over an hour earlier than I was meant to arrive. My mind was in a tailspin as I wondered when he’d propose. Would it be before dinner or after? Would it be after I drank my first ever sip of alcohol—which would be a glass of prosecco—Mom’s favorite? Or would he wait until late at night and do it on our walk home from dinner, on the steps of Rander Hall, where we’d first met our first year of college during our History 101 class?

The excitement of the possibilities made the upcoming proposal that much more thrilling. I knew it was coming, but I didn’t know how.

As I reached John’s dorm room, I could hear music blasting in his room. It must’ve been his roommate, Kevin’s music blasting. John wasn’t one to listen to rap music even though I told him some of the most lyrical geniuses came from rap music—I got that trait from my father.

I turned the doorknob to walk inside as I always did, seeing how the boys never locked their room, and I froze in place as I stared forward at John on his bed completely naked, with a girl between his legs giving him a blow job.

His blue eyes widened as my chest tightened from the lack of air circulating through my lungs when he saw me. Panic began to build second by second as I stared at my boyfriend and the girl on her knees before him.

“Oh crap!” John shouted, shaking the girl from his bottom half.

“Sorry,” I blurted out. Dazed and confused, I quickly rushed out of the room, shutting the door behind me. Did I apologize for catching my boyfriend cheating? My eyes stung with emotions as I shook my head, utterly dumbfounded by what I’d walked into. I started down the hallway quickly because I felt on the verge of an emotional breakdown.

“Starlet! Starlet, wait!” he shouted behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw John hurriedly stepping into the left leg of his sweatpants, still shirtless, racing toward me.

My eyes bugged out at the sight of him. The hallway had a few other guys walking through it, and their eyes all moved over to John’s and my situation.

“It’s not what it looked like!” John said, sending a wave of anger shooting through me. But I didn’t showcase it. The last thing I needed was for the strangers in the hallway to know that I caught my boyfriend getting a blow job from another girl. Many people have different fears in their lives, and public mortification was high on my list. The last thing I needed was to start sobbing in front of others after learning that John was a cheater.

I picked up my pace, shooting over to the elevator. I tapped the button repeatedly as if that would cause the elevator to appear magically. Unfortunately, it didn’t, and John caught up to me. He was out of breath and panting by the time he reached me, but to be fair, he was panting in bed with her. Her. Who was she? Did it matter?

No.

It didn’t.

It didn’t matter who the cheater was cheating with—all that mattered was that he was cheating.

The elevator opened, and I hopped inside as John followed me.

“Leave me alone,” I shot his way, hitting the first-floor button nonstop.

“Starlet, it wasn’t what it looked like,” he urged. My eyes widened with shock at his choice of words. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Okay, it was what it looked like. But you don’t understand. She and I were studying for a math exam at first and—”

“And let me guess, one plus one equals your penis in her mouth?” I cut in. “I bet you love those types of equations.” The tears at the base of my eyes began to fall as he looked at me with remorse. Did he feel bad that it happened or that he got caught?



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