Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
“For starters,” she said, leaning down, so we were eye to eye. This was the first time I saw something other than a void in her eyes. There was fire and amusement, and the mixture made it hard to breathe. “I don’t need a storyline in my porn.” She snatched the book from my hand and moved her face even closer. I could smell her minty breath and the gardenia scent that floated everywhere with her. Our noses were almost touching. Was this a test? For a split second, she looked at my lips and back to my eyes, and I thought she’d surely kiss me. I didn’t know how I felt about that. I didn’t let anyone kiss me. “Secondly, I like sex as much as I like people.”
I blinked hard, my heart pounding.
She turned and walked away, looking over her shoulder with the most sinful smile I’d ever seen. “Have fun at the party.”
I wasn’t easily surprised, but color me fucking surprised. She didn’t like anything, fine. But who the fuck didn’t like sex? Damn it. I hated her for getting me worked up and playing me like that. I hated her even more for dropping that piece of information and leaving. I’d obsess over it until she gave me an explanation.
CHAPTER 3
LACHLAN
When Prescott mentioned that Marissa and Lyla were going to the country club, I offered to pick them up. Thankfully, he didn’t question my motives. He should have since I’d never offered to pick anyone up, but he probably thought it had something to do with Marissa. Little did he know, I wished I could leave her ass at home and just take Lyla with me. Being stuck in a car with her for twenty minutes meant she’d have to speak to me. Of course, when I got to their apartment, Marissa told me that Lyla had already left. I sat in the living room, waiting for Marissa to finish getting ready, and Googled Lyla for the second time. Her socials were set to private, and I’d already requested her on every single one, even the ones I didn’t use. She hadn’t accepted any of them. Thanks to her father’s notoriety, I found that her birthday was January 28th. She’d played soccer and apparently was pretty good at it. She went to prom with some douchebag named Skylar Wyatt Parker, whose socials were set to public, and I was able to stalk the shit out of her. I went as far back as his first post, which was a feat since the guy had made over four thousand posts. He played lacrosse in high school and was currently playing for Yale. Pre-med.
There were two pictures of them together, one at prom and one with his hand over her shoulder. She was wearing a Yale hoodie that was so big on her that it obviously belonged to him. The caption was an emotional face emoji. I felt my face twist in disgust. On the fifth page of the search, I found a message board discussing a car accident she’d been involved in. They didn’t give details, and most of the comments were redacted. It must have been her father’s doing. Maybe she’d been under the influence and got into a car accident? One comment on page three of the discussion said: pls stop talking about this. People’s lives were shattered! It was left a little over a year ago by the screenname PiKaChOo9. I clicked the screen name and scanned what else they’d commented on, but it was primarily Pokemon-related.
“Ready.” Marissa walked out of her room. I clicked the side button on my phone as I stood.
She was wearing a sundress that I was sure her asscheeks would be hanging out of later. It was a pool party, though. Truthfully, I was almost at my limit with Marissa. At last night’s party, she’d finally gotten the hint that I wasn’t interested and stopped trying to rope me into hooking up with her. I’d resorted to extreme measures and let some girl in my ECON class sit on my lap right in front of her. It was a dick move, but I’d known people like Marissa my entire life, and I knew she wouldn’t stop unless I gave her solid proof that I wasn’t interested.
“I can’t believe Prescott invited all of us to the country club, of all places. I haven’t been in years,” she said in the car, taking breaks between words as she applied mascara – clear mascara, she’d said, because of the water. “He rented out the pool space, which is a big deal. And Lyla going? Even bigger deal.”
I couldn’t be sure, but my heart pounded a little harder at the mention of Lyla. I played it off. “Why is that a big deal?”
“She’s been through a lot,” Marissa said, flipping the sun visor. “The first year and a half of college, she lived with a group of girls, and even though we’re best friends, we didn’t really go to the same parties. Then. . .” She shook her head. “Then she moved into her dad’s guest house, and last semester, she finally caved and moved in with me like she was supposed to four years ago.”