Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
I shake my head. “It’s so much more complicated than that. I…I can’t believe I ever thought he was a good person.”
The car is silent for a minute as I gather my thoughts. Surprisingly, Bennett is the one to break it.
“I used to burn shit down for fun when I was younger. Did you know that?”
“You mean…like, arson?”
He nods, his face illuminated by a warm mix of moon and streetlight. “My brother Logan and I were firebugs, and just like Thomas Fuckwad the Third, we had more money than we knew what to do with. We spent every night drunk or high, tangled in women, and partying until we couldn’t stand up. Previously, we’d only burned shit our father owned, which was twisted in itself, but at least legally loopholed. But one night, after some rich asshole had been hammering me to get one of my paintings on his wall because he was obsessed with buying and selling art, I decided I wanted to fuck him over, and Logan was more than happy to join in. We ended up burning his car.”
“Oh shit.”
“Yeah.” He actually chuckles. “A Lamborghini, of all things.”
I gasp. “Oh my God, Bennett.”
“I know.”
“How the hell did you get out of that? Out of going to jail?”
“My brother Logan took the fall, and Breezy told me to get the fuck out of New York and keep my shit out of trouble.”
“Wow. Your brother Logan sounds—”
“No, whatever you’re about to say, don’t say it. My brother is no fucking martyr. He took the fall for the price of ten million dollars from my father, only spent thirty days in jail, and then helped himself to my girlfriend as a bonus.”
“What? Why the hell would your dad pay him to take the fall instead of both of you? You said you did it together.”
His laugh is bitter. “Because I’m a commodity for Bishop Galleries, Norah. My going to prison wouldn’t make financial sense, of course. But my point is that you’re not a bad person for not recognizing how shitty someone else was. You got fucked over, plain and simple. I am a bad person. At least, I was.”
I suck on my lips for a long moment to work up the courage and then finally ask, “So…how did you—the you you are now, I mean—and Summer come out of all of this? Your life now is completely different, and Summer is…”
My voice crawls to a stop. He knows what Summer is—the absolute best of us.
He grunts a little as he clears his throat, and I do him the courtesy of pretending not to notice. “The girlfriend I mentioned?”
I nod.
“She was pregnant with Summer, though I didn’t know it. I only found out when she put me on the birth certificate and took off right after she was born.”
“She took off?” I nearly shout.
“She said she couldn’t handle a ‘broken baby.’ That’s what she called her when she was born with osteogenesis imperfecta.”
A broken baby. A mother saying that about her own child hits me straight in the gut. It’s callous. It’s cruel. It’s…pure evil. My eyes make a bid to climb right out of my head as anger burns the lining of my throat.
“And that’s the only time I’ve been back to New York—to get Summer and bring her here,” he adds. “It’s been the two of us ever since.”
Bennett pulls to a stop in the Happy Trail parking lot, right next to Josie’s old Civic, with a crunch of gravel and a small squeal from his brakes. And I sit in the seat, unmoving, for what has to be an entire minute.
“Bennett—”
“Norah—”
When we finally speak, we do it at the same time.
I laugh, prepared to focus on our faux pas, but Bennett grabs me by the waist of his sweatpants I’m still wearing and pulls me toward him, sealing our lips in a kiss.
Soft but still eager, his mouth works at mine until a small gasp creates an opening for his tongue. I moan and scoot my body toward him more, going so far as to climb onto his lap to straddle him when his tongue flicks at the tip of mine.
Bennett presses his fingertips into the skin of my hips just beneath my waistband, and I roll my torso toward him involuntarily.
I gasp again when my hair tie disappears unexpectedly, releasing a forest of wild curls around my face. Bennett shoves his hands in both sides and tugs—just slightly.
Holy shit. This might be the hottest moment of my entire life.
Forehead to forehead, Bennett and I breathe hard as he pulls back just enough to whisper, “Fuck, Norah.”
“Bennett, what are we doing?” I ask, my voice shaking with adrenaline.
“I don’t know. But I’m tired of fighting everything all the time. Tired of fighting whatever this is between us.”
“I am too,” I whisper, and he kisses me deep again, his lips and tongue persistent against mine to the point of madness. I swear, I’m nearly three sheets to the wind, drunk off this kiss.