Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 134665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
“I got a text.”
Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose. I was hard for Demi, but I was pretending she was Becky. And I would have fucked either one of them. Fuck!
“So?” I know Cole isn’t all that into technology, but a text is nothing new to him.
He snatches his cell off the kitchen counter and shoves it into my bare chest. “Fucking read it.”
The light is too harsh, so I blink a few times waiting for my eyes to adjust. He turned my bedroom light on but not the one here in the kitchen. “What is it?”
“Pretend I’m her, and I’ll pretend I love you.”
“Just read it!” he orders.
Blinking rapidly, I put it up to my face. “This is a Facebook PM,” I note, realizing it’s not a text. “I didn’t think you used your Facebook?”
“I don’t!” he answers, continuing to pace. I know he had our other friend Bennett delete Austin’s, but I thought he had gotten rid of his as well.
What the hell has him so wound up? And what am I going to do about that dream? “This is to you?” I ask, trying to get my mind off it.
“To us!” He yanks the phone from my grip when he realizes I’m not catching on as quickly as he wants me to. He points at the top of the screen. I didn’t see that my name was involved in the chat too.
I pull my phone out of the pocket of my sweatpants and look at it. Sure enough, I have a message, so I open it up. “Who …?” My voice trails off when I see who it’s from. “No way,” I say, shaking my head in denial. “It can’t be.”
“When was the last time you used it?” he snaps.
“I don’t know.”
“Fucking think!”
“Uh … months,” I answer honestly as I try to get my head in the game and out of that nightmare I just had. “Back when we were in Collins.” I close out of my account and try to log in to my spam account that I’ve had for a few years now. “Shit!” I hiss and then my eyes meet his. “I’m locked out. Someone got access to it and changed the password.”
“Goddammit!” he shouts.
“Cole?”
We both look up to see Austin enter the kitchen. She flips the switch on the wall, making us both squint at the harsh light. She runs a hand through her tangled dark hair. Wearing a pair of Cole’s basketball shorts and a T-shirt, she yawns. “Why are you guys down here yelling? In the dark?”
“Go to bed,” he orders, ignoring her.
That seems to perk her up. Her green eyes widen, and her brows lift. “Cole, what are you …?”
“Go back to fucking bed, Austin!” he shouts.
Even I am surprised at his tone. I haven’t seen him talk to her like that since he first met her. Back when she was just a game to him. Something to destroy.
She storms into the kitchen and reaches for the phone in his hand, but he snatches it back before she can get her hands on it. “No!” She crosses her arms over her chest. “You’re gonna tell me exactly what the fuck is going on. Right now!”
He shoves his hand through his disheveled hair and then storms out of the kitchen and down the hallway.
I know exactly where he’s going. You hear the sliding back door open and slam shut a second later. She goes to follow him, but I reach out and grab her upper arm, pulling her to a stop. “Don’t.”
Her worried green eyes meet mine. Cole has always been a hothead, but things haven’t been the same since our friend Kellan tried to kill her.
“Something is wrong.”
“I’ll take care of it.” I always do. Always have. Cole is my brother. He’s been through some shit, and I’m always there for him. “Just go back up to bed.”
She looks like she wants to argue, but I turn and open the fridge. I grab a bottle of vodka that I was saving for this weekend and then a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of our junk drawer and leave her standing in the kitchen.
I exit the house and step out onto the back patio. Cole’s shirt sits on the ground next to the pool with his sweatpants. He has “Things That Make You Scream” by Memory of a Melody playing softly from his phone through the outside speakers. And I wonder if it’s a sign from God regarding the dream I just had. Which is crazy because I’m not religious.
I plop down in a chaise lounge chair and unscrew the cap on the bottle. Breathing in the cool night air, I take the new pack of cigarettes and slam the end into my palm. After the whole Demi and Becky thing, I could use a fucking joint, but they drug test us at the university. The only downfall of being an athlete.