Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 119152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
When the waitress comes back, I grab a shot from her tray and slam it before she has a chance to put them on the table.
“Chill, dude. You okay? You’re looking mighty angry all of a sudden. It’s still early in the game. They have plenty of time to—”
“Fine. I’ll be right back.” I get up, ignoring Chase’s curious eye, to take a piss. What the fuck is she doing here? I haven’t seen her in years, and now, I can’t get away from her.
The open house was a mistake. I should have never gone. I told Hannah that Makayla had asked about getting a fire inspection at the wedding. Hannah sang like a canary, telling me how nice it was of me, considering she was trying to sell her father’s house and probably wouldn't break even with any costs.
I had no idea he was dead, which made me feel like a dick, but it didn’t stop me from showing up like a creep and inviting myself into her house. I always wondered what kind of home she lived in. It took me by surprise when I entered. It wasn’t cozy like the Matthews’ or quaint like the house I grew up in. It was. . . cold. Lonely. It didn’t feel like a home. The way she looked lost to some kind of memory while I ate my delicious cookie, I could tell she felt the same way.
It didn’t matter, though. I didn’t give a shit about her story or her home life. Once again, I fell into her trap, with those lips and her damn eyes. All I could think about was kissing the fuck out of her. Pulling up her tight little pencil skirt and feasting between her creamy thighs.
I’m just thankful she opened her mouth and killed the moment with her stubborn refusal to apologize. Going too far with her was a bad idea. She had too big of a stick up her ass, and I wasn’t about bitchy snobs. Whatever grudge she held against me from a lifetime ago was ridiculous. I was done with her. Fuck her apology. And fuck her.
I finish in the bathroom and make my way back to the table. When I return, she and her friend are there.
“Ben, you remember Makayla?” Kip asks.
I wish I didn’t. “Doesn’t ring a bell.” I throw myself in my chair and drink my beer, my eyes locked on the game.
“Oh, come on. Hannah’s friend? She used to always be over.”
Yeah, I know. The girl with the cute little nose and ridiculous glasses. Her long, dark hair was always in her face. I nicknamed her “duckling” because she was anything but. “Seriously, do you expect me to remember every girl Hannah was friends with?”
Kip eyes me, his lips thinning. I know. I’m a dick.
“I don’t really remember him either. He was probably the shy one.”
I turn to her. “I was never shy,” I snap.
“Maybe you were the boring one then. Never made an impression—”
“I assure you, sweetheart. I made an impression.”
Kip and Levi stare at me while Chase gives a slow headshake, silently telling me to knock it off.
“Hmmm. . . still not ringing any bells. But, Levi, I remember you. Your football stats in college were amazing—”
My stool skids back as I slide off, startling everyone. Everyone but her. She knows exactly what she’s doing. I don’t hesitate to invade her personal space. Her friend becomes territorial, trying to block me, but I don’t give a fuck. Even the guys stand slowly, unsure of my next move.
“You know nothing about me, sweetheart. I’d tread lightly and mind my own business if I were you. The truth is not pretty, and making assumptions doesn’t look good on anyone.”
I push by Levi and Kip and head down the hallway. The back exit door blasts open, and I rush out, pulling the night’s air into my lungs. My anger refuses to subside. I turn and kick over a large garbage can.
“What do you mean the truth’s not pretty?”
I whip around to her standing outside the door. “Go back inside.” I turn back.
“No, I want to know what you meant by that.”
“And I told you to go inside.” Actually, fuck this. I whip back to face her. “You think you know it all. Have everyone pegged. Little Miss Priss, who just up and took off one day, finds herself back home only to judge everyone else—”
“I’m not judging everyone. I’m only judging you.”
“You know nothing about me.”
She storms up to me. “I know you’re a jerk. A careless asshole who picks on the weak. The less fortunate. I was just a kid, and you tore me down.”
I thrust both hands through my hair. This girl is maddening. “Says the little girl with the mouth who was just as nasty. Give me a break. That was a lifetime ago. I’m talking about now. The present. You think you can just show up here and break me down?”