Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
Plus, he would have so told my dad, and he’s right: the parentals have no idea.
My dad’s far too paranoid for that. Being a sergeant at a men’s prison will do that to a man.
Why Crew didn’t tell me about his situation is as obvious as it is depressing—he simply didn’t want to, not that it crossed his mind to begin with. And that’s okay. Sad, but okay.
He used to call me for no reason, so for him to not call when there was one further confirmed he was settling into a life I wasn’t wanted in. Or so it felt.
I know if I needed him, even if ten years of no communication passed, I could still call, and he’d come. I can depend on no one like I can him, cut from his circle or not.
Perching my elbow on the back of the couch, I rest my head on my palm, a small smile on my lips. “When the bar reopens, will you go back to staying there?”
“When you finish school in a few weeks, are you moving out of here?”
“No.”
Crew shakes his head, his voice low. “Then, no, I won’t be.”
“So, we’re officially roommates again, only, this time, I won’t have to sneak into your room for movie nights when my brother and parents go to bed?”
“Looks like it.” He holds my gaze. “Think you can handle me?”
“I literally bribed you for the opportunity to try.”
His brows snap together so fast, my laughter cannot be tamed.
“Hey, you have to be careful of your choice of words or things might get a little tricky around here.”
He scoffs, running his palms down his face. “Yeah, no shit.”
Relaxed, I start browsing through Netflix, settling on a murder documentary, and instead of getting up and walking out, Crew leans back.
We sit in silence, but about fifteen minutes in, something comes to mind, so I press pause and turn to Crew.
“Not to be a cockblocker or anything, but your cock is officially blocked in this house. I can’t listen to someone else get boned down when you refuse to play me like a puppet.”
“For fuck’s sake,” he mumbles, then shoves to his feet and hurries down the hall.
“Oh my god, you don’t have to pout about it!”
“Good night, Davis!”
Could be a better one…
Chapter Thirteen
Crew
My back smacks into the doorjamb, and I shove Willie’s way. “I said left, dick.”
“My bad.” His grin peeks beyond the mattress a second, and he adjusts, so we’re able to ease inside my new room. “Down in one, two—”
I let go, and he’s forced to refocus his weight.
“Fucker.” He shakes his head, lowering it to the floor.
Picking up the bottom edge, we push it onto the metal frame.
“So.” Willie puts his hands on his hips. “This is the new spot, huh?”
I don’t answer, tossing my sheets and comforter onto the memory foam mattress. “You sure this is the one Layla said to get?”
“Same one we got, yeah.”
“And your big ass doesn’t sink to the bottom?” I push on it, my hand melting into the soft material.
“Nah, it’s made to hug you, so you forget you’re a lonely, sexless son of a bitch.”
My head snaps toward Willie, and he grins.
“What? It’s true.” His eyes spark, and he walks backward from the room. “Speaking of the fuckless.”
“She’s not home, and if she were, I’d smack the shit out of you for saying that out loud.”
“Wonder what color comforter she has. I’m betting pretty pink or lovely lavender? Extra fluffy.”
I scoff, and his gaze narrows.
“You son of a bitch. You already looked,” he accuses.
My smirk is small as I reach for her door handle, opening it no more than a crack for him to peek inside.
A low whistle leaves him. “A surprising little virgin.” He pushes closer. “What is that? Gold satin?”
I close the door, forcing him to step back. “Rose gold satin. Black satin sheets.”
“Get it, girl.” He smiles, following me into the kitchen. “It looks expensive. You sure she doesn’t have a sugar daddy sending her things?”
“She kissed me because Julius staring at her made her nervous. I think it’s safe to say, there’s no sugar daddy.”
“Julius is a good-looking motherfucker,” he teases, laughing at himself as he speaks of his identical twin. “Sugar daddy’s can be fugly and virtual. Maybe that’s her type, the ones who steer clear and are just below good-looking. You know, like you.”
My middle finger is all he gets in response.
Sugar daddy.
Come the fuck on.
And no way she talks to guys online. She’d never, I warned her ass about that before Memphis and I moved out. She knows I’d have her ass for that.
Right?
Willie’s laugh is loud and barking, and when my eyes slide to him, he’s staring right at me. “Man, you’re too fucking easy when it comes to her.”
“Fuck’s that mean? I’m no different than any other time.”