Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Turns out, I’m actually the worst.
Aubrey
Spencer’s still gone by the time we finish our shopping later that afternoon. The house isn’t quieter without him, but it’s something. Less tense. Empty.
I ignore the emptiness and peek into his room after depositing all my bags into mine. As soon as I crack the door, his masculine scent envelops me. It’s annoying that monsters smell good, especially this one.
Though I’d come to his defense earlier when Tasha was here, I couldn’t help but also feel unnerved by his behavior. I’d heard their heated voices and listened in a bit before I intervened.
She was scared.
For Mom.
Like she thought she was dead.
Sickness roils in my gut. Mom and I have had our differences and she’s been less than motherly to me my entire life, but I’d never wish her to die.
Would Spencer have it in him to hurt my mother?
My mind drifts to the past. After the good times. After the best part. After getting caught.
Something’s changed.
Spencer is different.
Colder. Harder. Carved from impenetrable stone.
As if our kiss was all my fault. As if I seduced him.
We both know it was an inevitable coming together. We’d been dancing toward that kiss since the day we met, long before our parents were married.
And that kiss was everything.
The second our lips met, my heart collided with his and my world tilted on its axis. The kiss—my very first—was going to be the best one of my life. Surely nothing could ever top the way his soft lips pressed to mine or how his tongue tentatively slid into my mouth.
He was so sweet. So caring. So gentle.
A chill tingles up my spine, making the hairs on my arms stand on end. The kiss, though interrupted, was perfect.
So why is he acting like some emotionless statue?
I watch him as he strides into the kitchen, dressed impeccably for school. He avoids looking at me altogether, the same as every day this week since our kiss. The cut to my heart won’t stop bleeding. I’ve kept quiet, trying to give him the space he needs, but I’m not sure I can take his ignoring me any longer.
“Spencer,” I croak out, hating the way my voice quavers.
His shoulders tense as he pours his juice into a glass, but he doesn’t respond. I swallow hard, watching him as he lifts the glass to his lips. He gulps down the orange juice quickly and then sets to rinsing the glass out.
“Spencer,” I try again. “Why are you doing this?”
He sets the glass down into the sink with a loud clink before turning his angry stare toward me. “Doing what, leech?”
I flinch at his words. “Leech? What the hell, Spencer?”
His nostrils flare and a cruel smile curls his lips. It would be handsome if it didn’t turn the blood in my veins to ice.
“You’re a leech. Using me and my father. You disgust me.”
I blink in confusion. “W-What are you talking about?”
“You almost had me there for a second,” he snarls, as though the admission costs him part of his soul, “but I see you for who you are now.”
Tears flood my eyes and I hastily swipe them away. “Why are you being like this?”
“This thing you thought you could make happen between us,” he hisses, pointing at me and then at himself, “is over. I won’t fuck up so stupidly ever again.” He cocks his head to the side. “Stay out of my way. Don’t fucking talk to me. And if you even think about ruining my family, I will hurt you in ways you will never mentally recover from.”
With those awful words, he stalks away, leaving me with a broken heart and messy mind.
What happened?
His room is the same as it was all those years ago. Pristine. Seemingly untouched. I can almost hear my own soft mewls as we kissed on his bed. I remember the covers getting rumpled and it was the messiest I’d ever seen his room. Wrecking him in the best possible way felt like a win—like I was powerful enough to be a match for someone like Spencer Park.
Bitterness has me shuddering. That moment was so short-lived and was immediately followed by some of the worst days in my entire life. He was beyond cruel. My sweet, sexy stepbrother mutated into a monster I didn’t even recognize.
And he never transformed back.
With a heavy sigh, I make my way over to his dresser. I’m not sure what I’m doing in his room, but as soon as I open a drawer filled with neatly folded socks, a fire burns inside me.
His perfect, OCD room always felt like a mask hiding the real Spencer. When his lips were on mine, that mask was gone. I saw someone real. Someone I could love.
I close the drawer and open another one. I want to peel back every layer of his life and peek inside. Then, maybe I’ll find answers as to why he suddenly treated me like a gold-digging whore. Like someone else’s gum on the bottom of his shoe.