Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 127146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
What kind of person wants more?
At the same time, I'm still scared. I don't know why, but some part of me thinks Drew won’t be happy with just our little encounter in the woods. He'll want more. He's relentless and spoiled, and rich assholes like him always want more. He also probably doesn't hear the word no very often. I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t forget his touch. His words. Tears burn at the back of my eyes, and I’m overcome with emotion. I cup my face in my hands and let the hot tears slide down into my palms.
After a five-minute mini-pity party, I swipe hard at my cheeks and scrub my skin to bring myself back. People have sex all the time. It's not important; it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter that I feel degraded and abused. That I feel ashamed of how my body responded to him. I can’t even blame him, not entirely. It’s not like I stopped him. I didn’t even tell him no.
I shove the covers off my legs and slowly shift to the edge of the bed. I need a damn shower, some food, and then I want to spend the rest of the day trying to forget what happened last night, preferably with a pint of ice cream and a sappy movie.
I blink my eyes, attempting to clear the blurriness, but that won’t happen without my fucking glasses. Ugh, what the hell am I going to do? Then it hits me. I have another pair of glasses somewhere in here. I lean over and pull open my bedside drawer, digging inside for the prescription sunglasses with the cracked lens. It’s not an ideal solution, but I can get my glasses back later if I can bring myself to go hunt him down… Maybe I can send Jackie instead. She seemed to like him well enough to drag me out to the event in the first place.
I lumber out to the living room and find Jackie sitting at the table, earbuds in, chowing down on a bowl of Coco Pops. When I stop at the table and lean against the surface, she pulls out her earbuds and looks me over with a slight cringe. "Uh...did you have fun last night?" From what I can see, she doesn't have any bruises, while I can feel my own with each step I take.
"I wouldn't say fun exactly." I swallow hard and move to grab a bowl. But then I catch sight of my nails again and decide I have to scrub my hands before I can pour my breakfast. Five minutes later, I sit down beside Jack who decides then to stand and head to the sink. So much for having breakfast together.
"I have a date in a few minutes. One of the guys from the event last night. We're going to study." Even though her back is to me, her tone tells me she just wiggled her eyebrows as she said the word "study."
I scoop up some cereal and shove it into my mouth, chewing slowly to give myself a moment to come up with something to say. I don't want to rain on her parade right now, but mine's been flooded, and I’m not in the mood to discuss what happened last night.
After a moment, I just offer a halfhearted, "Cool," and continue eating.
She turns to face me after setting her bowl on the drying rack. "How was Drew? I know he was looking for you last night. I’m assuming from your disheveled look that he found you."
The mention of his name almost makes me choke on the sugary cereal. I clear my throat and keep my eyes on the darkening milk in my bowl. "Uh...yeah, he found me, eventually."
"What happened? I've heard so many things about him." Her eyes widen meaningfully on the word things.
"What kind of things?"
She gets down on her elbows and lowers her voice like she's trying to keep our dorm room ghosts from hearing. "He's ruthless in bed, both with his, er...pleasure...and his partners. He doesn't really date much. He's more of a hookup kind of guy, so all the girls want to try to bag him. But, I mean, look at him. Who wouldn't want that? His father's this billionaire and one of the top alumni at the school. Plus, the whole quarterback of the football team thing makes all the girls and some of the guys, if I'm being honest, drool like dogs." She slaps the table and stands. "Anyway, I gotta run. Get some rest today, girl. You look like shit.”
Thanks. I make a noncommittal noise and continue eating as she bustles out the door. In the hall, I hear her giggle, and then the door opens again. I'm about to ask if she forgot something, but the words stick in my throat, clogging my ability to breathe or think.