Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 95340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Here I am, standing at death's door while she clutches her robe—the way one would clutch a string of pearls, tightly and to her bosom like a fucking virgin in an 80s teen movie. Except this isn’t a movie, and she probably isn’t a virgin—not with tits and a body like that…no way, no how.
My point is, how dare she act as if she’s the one who has to step foot behind the door.
’Cause she doesn’t.
I do.
Me.
“I don’t know what’s going to come flying out at me from behind this door, do you? The last time something came flying at my face, it was a puck, and I knew it was going to come flying at my face so I was prepared.”
The second last thing that came flying toward my face was a fist, attached to the arm of a dude on an opposing team. He took a cheap shot at me after one of his teammates started throwing punches at Charlie—my roommate—and probably wanted to liven the play.
Fists > squirrel talons.
“Wait. I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.”
“Yes, I’m being serious about not wanting to go into your room!” Am I pouting? It’s hard to tell with my voice this high-pitched all of a sudden. Panic has set in, ha ha. “Cut me some slack, would ya? Five minutes ago, I was shoving dinner into my face and enjoying what promises to be a lovely sunset. Now I’m standing outside the door of someone I just met, ready to be attacked by a squirrel.”
I’m sore. Tired.
Oh—and I bit my bottom lip during practice, so that was fun. Sue me for not wanting to fight a squirrel and for wanting to relax instead.
I clear my throat to dial it down a notch. “I don’t need my face gnawed off by a rodent. I have a game this weekend.”
That makes Lizzy laugh, and she rolls her eyes again, pulling her robe taut across her chest. “It’s not going to gnaw your face off.”
“You do not know that for a fact.”
I don’t see why she’s laughing or what’s so damn funny about my predicament. My hand clutches the doorknob, though I’m somehow unable to turn it.
“And if you were so confident in him being a friendly squirrel, you wouldn’t need me here.” Boom, roasted.
She laughs harder as if I’d said the funniest thing ever, holding a hand to her mouth as if to stifle the loud giggling.
God, if only she weren’t so fucking cute.
“I’m not facing a wild animal on my own.” She laughs. “I have seen these things lurking on campus, and they are not our friends.”
Her head shakes, and I think this is the perfect opportunity to let her in on my “Squirrels are here to take over the world” theory.
“Wild animal?” That’s a bit of a stretch. But still. “They are trying to take over the world. Agree. Way too many of those creepy little fucks.”
Lizzy nods at my hard truths. “Those are facts.”
I inhale a deep breath—the kind of breath I take during a hockey game when the ref drops the puck onto the ice to begin the game.
“Here goes nothing.” My mouth twists into a sardonic smile. “It’s been nice knowing you, Lizzy.”
Sure would have been nice to see those tits, Lizzy Campbell.
C’est la vie. That’s life.
With one glance back at her, I give the doorknob a turn and push the door open, one inch—then two. Three inches.
Four.
“My heart is racing so fast,” she whispers behind me, voice getting closer, her front pressed against my back as if she were trying to look over my shoulder.
“Mine too,” I whisper despite not wanting to sound like a total pussy.
Stepping gingerly—very fucking gingerly—into her bedroom, creeping inch by inch, I scan the perimeter for the squirrel, unable to spot the bastard within my first few steps.
I glance around again, scanning.
Wanting to find it but not wanting to find it.
Dresser. Mirror.
Open closet with the clothes moved to one side.
Desk. Lamp.
Bed.
My eyes take it all in.
No squirrel.
“Do you see it?” Lizzy whispers behind me, her boobs pressed into my back as if we were walking through a haunted house during Halloween. It’s completely unnecessary—plus, I don’t need her latched to my back if I have to make an emergency exit. I’d look like a giant asshole shoving her out of the way to escape.
“Do you think it went back inside the hole?” She’s still whispering.
She said hole.
I want to laugh because deep down inside, I’m a twelve-year-old idiot.
“Doubtful.” Most likely, it’s hiding in plain sight, and we just haven’t been able to locate the damn thing because we’re looking too hard. Plus, she has a few stuffed animals, and it could be lurking behind those—hard to tell.
Lizzy is on her tiptoes behind me, peering over my shoulder. Breathing heavily, she grips my biceps as if our lives depended on me for survival. In reality, she doesn’t stand a chance if I’m her deciding factor. I’m so out of here if that thing pounces.