Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Stiles laughs at him. “Hate to tell you this, but he’s straight as straight can be.”
Robert rolls his eyes. “That’s what all the gay ones say.” He turns, walking away.
My foot still hurts, and when I go to put pressure on it, he looks to it.
“Still hurting?”
Shaking my head, I lie once again. It seems to be a new thing with him. To lie by omission. Isn’t that fun. It’s the perfect way to start growing a healthy relationship. Not.
“Good. My parents want us to join them tonight. It’s a heel event.”
Fuck! I don’t know how I’m going to fit into a set of heels and keep from wincing all the time.
“Gown?” I ask, hoping he’ll say no. Touching that money from Ryken... it’s not something I want to do. I’ve donated most of it and kept enough to open my own business.
“Yes. Then I plan to tear it off of you and give it a nice position on my floor where it belongs,” he whispers close to my ear, and a shiver takes over my body. Stiles thinks it’s because of him. It partly is, but tearing a dress off me that I can’t afford—well I can, but I don’t want to use that money too often—that’s what scares me the most. Who does that shit? I won’t allow him to do that.
“Sounds like a plan.”
He steps back as the bell rings.
“I’ll meet you tonight then?”
Stiles nods his head. I have to study on my breaks today, then I plan to go straight to the shops to buy yet another dress, especially now that I can’t ask Liv to wear one of hers.
“WHY ARE YOU HERE?” Livia’s voice sounds accusing. It was the first shop I walked into because it had a large sale sign on the front. It’s a steal, I’m cheap and in search of a bargain.
“I need a dress.” Livia looks around then back to me. “Are you mad at me?”
She scoffs at my words. “Mad? You’re joking, right?”
My eyebrows scrunch up at her words. The way she says them like she hates me, like she’s spewing venom right at me. I don’t hate her. Does she know? I hope she doesn’t hate me. Is that wrong of me?
“No, at least I don’t think I am.”
“You love my boyfriend, Saskia.”
Shaking my head, she crosses her arms over her chest. “Please... deny it to my face so I can hate you some more.”
“I don’t.”
Ryken broke my heart and has taken pieces of it away. It can’t love him anymore. Can it?
“You’re faking it with Stiles. I saw it when you walked out of his room. Your blood staining Ryken’s floor. I saw it. Don’t deny it. Even the way Ryken looks at you. But he loves me, Sass, not you. You’re something he could use and play with. I’m something he keeps.”
Stepping back, her words cut deep. Does she think that low of me? If she knew the truth, she’d think of me less than what she does now. That would hurt me even more. She pulls a dress from the rack and places it in my hands.
“Wear this to your fake boyfriend’s dinner. I’ve never steered you wrong before, have I?”
No, she hasn’t, but honestly, her words hurt me. She walks away, leaving me with a rose gold dress in my hand that reads half price.
“Wasn’t that your cousin?”
I turn to see Stiles’ sister behind me.
Did she hear what Livia said?
“Yes.”
She looks back at me and smiles. “I thought so.” Her hand reaches out, touching the dress. “This is stunning. For tonight?”
I nod at Becca’s words. “Awesome. Do you need a lift? You can get ready with me if you like. Saves you going home then coming back?”
Personally, I want to hide in a closet, lock myself in there and never get out. Ever again. That’s what I deserve, right? Instead, I nod my head, because I’m a dickhead who loves self-punishment. And who also doesn’t mind the affections I get from a certain man, even if he isn’t the one who makes my heart pump hard.
“Did you want me to tell him you’re here?” Becca asks as we get out of her car. The dress I bought is still in my hand, my school bag on my back.
Shaking my head, I walk away from her to go outside to his pool house. Pulling open the door, I find Stiles sitting down playing on his cell phone. He looks up to me when I enter, and stands automatically, walking to me and dropping his cell in his pocket. His hand comes around my ass, and the things in my hands drop. I kick the door shut with my foot as he picks me up.
Is this to be my life with Stiles—gowns, parties, stuff I’ll never fit into. Plus, his hands all over me. That last part is the only reason I say yes because it’s becoming expensive to be going to these functions with him.