Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
And then, he’s back on his feet, walking toward the ocean with his paddleboard tucked beneath his arm.
Sheesh. Here, school, it doesn’t matter. One way or another, I end up on the losing end of our battles.
How is it that Mack always manages to get what he wants?
“Excuse me? Do you think your friend is going to be coming back to the beach soon?” an excited voice asks from above me, breaking into my reading just as Killian Shadow is about to discover what killed him.
I know I’ve read this before, but that doesn’t make the interruption any more acceptable.
“Hello?” one of the other college girls from yesterday adds when I don’t answer her friend quickly enough.
I swear, tomorrow, I’m making a poster board sign to stick in the sand beside me that reads, “Thanks for not talking to me while I’m reading.”
I look up from my book to find the whole hot-bikini-girl gang looming above me, their towels and cooler settled dangerously close to my current spot.
For the last hour, I’ve been gloriously Mack-less. He’s been out in the sea, doing his paddleboard thing, and I’ve been chilling with my toes in the sand, falling into a world of humor and mystery. We were coexisting in the bubble of the beach without disturbing each other, and my earlier rage was actually starting to abate.
But here he is again, seating himself in my business, through a bunch of college girls who’ve been captivated by the idea of partaking in some of his cocktails.
“Your friend,” the blonde repeats when I still haven’t answered and nods toward the water. “Do you think he’ll be coming back to the sand soon?”
I shake my head, eager to dispose of their presence. “He’s not my friend.”
“But you know him?”
“Yeah.” I nod. Getting to know every ounce of his annoying habits on a personal basis at this point.
“Oh, okay. Well…” She pauses to glance out toward him again, and she digs her teeth into her bottom lip. “Do you happen to have his number?”
I find myself shaking my head, even though I do, in fact, have Mack’s number programmed into my phone from when we were supposed to work on the fall carnival planning committee together last year. Communication is key in teamwork, and I believed that pretty fervently until it became obvious that the real key to teamwork with Mack Houston was getting him off the team.
“Well, I need a really big favor, and I’m hoping you can help me.”
I tilt my head to the side, but she’s already taking action. Before I know it, she’s reaching down and picking up my cell phone from the top of my beach bag and handing it to me.
It’s all I can do not to choke on my tongue.
“I need you to give him my name and number.” She smiles like she isn’t taking a leap to the fucking moon over my boundaries right now. “My name is Maddie,” she continues as her eyes nod knowingly toward the phone that’s now in my hands. “Just let me know when you’re ready for my number.”
I have a three-second vivid fantasy of jumping up from my chair and tackling her into the sand while I smash my phone over her head. But the reality of my pushover tendencies is hot on its heels, and before I know it, I’m typing in my passcode and pulling up a fresh page in my Notes app.
Holy hell, I’m my own worst enemy.
“You ready?” she asks, her voice painfully, gratingly excited.
“Yep.” I nod.
She rattles off her digits, even punctuating the last four digits with her fingers twirling strands of her blond hair. It’s like she’s turning into a cat in heat just from the mere thought of Mack having her phone number.
“Okay, got it,” I confirm and wiggle my phone in my hand as some psychotic show of good faith.
But she grabs the phone from my hands—without permission again—and double-checks that I’ve typed the number without any mistakes.
My mouth agape, she tosses my cell back to me and orders without shame, “Give it to him as soon as he’s done, okay? We want to let him know our plans for tonight.”
I smile through gritted teeth. “Mm-hmm.”
“Thanks, babe. I appreciate it.” She turns on her heel, she and her friends skipping back toward their setup mere meters away.
Beyond annoyed—and let’s face it, it’s mostly at myself—I jump up from my chair and toss both my phone and book into my beach bag.
My initial idea is to walk, but with the heat of the sun and my irritation working together, I feel like I’ll absolutely expire if I don’t do something to cool off, right this instant.
I have to get in the water.
Mack is still doing his paddleboarding thing, despite the physical exhaustion he must be feeling from doing it for so long, and it makes me realize why the man’s body is so damn fit. I’m practically out of breath from my encounter with the Trollop-y Three and this short walk to the edge of the waves, and he’s out there doing some Amazing Race type of crap.