Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 32145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
I close my laptop when I hear the doorbell. My mom is out right now with her boyfriend. It has to be old Mr. Truman from next door. No one else drops by except maybe an ex of my mom’s, but that’s usually pretty late.
“You got cookies?” I ask as I swing my front door open. It’s not my neighbor with a fresh batch of sweets. I live off Truman’s sweets many nights.
“Did you even check before you answered?” Van gives me that glare I’m accustomed to.
“If I did, I wouldn't have asked about cookies.” I close the door partially and block the rest with my body so that he can’t see inside. “Aren’t you supposed to be smart? You see a peephole?” I point to my door.
“You thought I was a Girl Scout?”
“No. I thought you were Truman.”
Van folds his arms over his chest, showing off his biceps. I had no clue I had a thing for muscles, but here I am. The curse women bear. “Who is Truman?”
“Why are you on my doorstep popping off with questions?”
“Don’t like when the tables are turned?”
I don’t. I’m the one that’s supposed to ask the questions. I just stand there and give him a dead stare. That works most of the time, but Van is unmoved. Maybe he’s confused since I’m not drooling over him. “You didn’t text me back,” he finally says, making me smirk because he broke first. I’ll take whatever victories I can get with him. Van has no idea how off-kilter I am when it comes to him.
“How did you get my number?” He shrugs. I narrow my eyes on him, not liking when I don’t know something.
“How bad do you want to know?” Oh shit. He’s on to me. He knows it’s going to eat at me and is using it to his advantage.
“I don’t really care actually. So are we done here?” Two can play this game.
“Liar.” His hand comes out, pushing on the door.
“Hey!” I stumble back as he lets himself right in.
“Don’t lie to me. I don’t like it.”
“I don’t like a lot of things, but we all have to deal with shit.” I close the door before anyone around here sees. People love to gossip in this place. I might be one of them, but I don’t want to be the topic. “How do you even know I’m lying?” I brush one of my unruly curls out of my face.
Van’s eyes travel down my body, lingering on my legs. It reminds me that I’m only in a pair of sleep shorts and a thin shirt. I don’t have a bra on because I don’t really need one for the most part.
“Because you want to know everything.” I shift on my feet, wondering how good Van is at reading people. He is harder to get a feel for because he gives nothing. His face is always passive except for the random glare or irritation he shows, and I honestly think everyone gets it.
“You've been talking to people about me?”
“Not really.” Ouch. I’m not sure what I was expecting for a response, but that stung. I hate that I have that reaction.
“What are you doing here?” I let out an annoyed breath.
“I wasn’t talking to you when I said ‘you could leave.’”
“Okay.” I shrug.
“Do you want to come back to the party?”
“No. You should, though. It’s your birthday party,” I remind him. “It’s rude to leave your own party.”
“The party is more for my mom.” He glances around my living room. “You—”
“Don’t.” I cut him off before he can ask me personal questions about my life and shitty apartment. We live worlds apart.
“You don’t want to know where I got your number?” He lifts a brow. Was that really what he was about to say or did he change it up to something he knew I’d bite at?
“Okay. Tell me.”
“It will cost you.” He smirks. Actually a freaking smirk and dimple forms in his cheek. “You know being on the football team, I hear a lot of secrets.”
“You barely talk to anyone. No one is telling you shit.”
“It’s when no one thinks you're paying attention then you overhear all kinds of things.”
“Fine. Out with it. What’s the cost?” I’m as curious about the things he could know as I am what he wants for payment. It wouldn’t be hard for him to get laid. His family is also loaded. I’m not sure what I have to offer.
“I want a girlfriend.” I stand there unsure of why he’s telling me this.
“Then go get one.”
“I want you.” He steps toward me.
“What?” He’s lost his mind. “Did you drink some of the spiked punch?”
“No.”
“Then why do you want me to be your girlfriend?” He stares at me for a long moment.
“It could work for both of us. You’ll keep other girls from bothering me and you’ll be close enough to get all the secrets of our school.” He dangles the bait for me, knowing there’s no way I can resist.