Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 70458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
I nodded. “They did, but somebody spiked it. The teachers haven’t caught on yet.”
“Sloppy of them.” He pushed off the wall. “What are you doing?”
I waved my phone at him. “Calling Reagan to come get me.”
“I’ll take you,” he offered.
I didn’t want him to take me.
But, sadly, my sister might take quite a long time to get here. And I didn’t think that Louis was going to take no for an answer.
“I…”
“Scared?” he taunted me.
I narrowed my eyes. “No.”
“Sure?” he said. “Because I’m here. Willing to take you.”
I rolled my eyes and ran my hands up and down the length of my bare arms.
“I’m not really dressed to ride,” I pointed out.
In fact, I wasn’t even sure the dress I was wearing would hike up enough to allow my legs to part to straddle his bike.
“I brought my car.”
I looked over my shoulder, and sure enough, his car was there, waiting.
Like he’d planned this.
Or knew me that well.
Son of a bitch.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
He gestured for me to go to the car, and with no other options, I did as he bid.
I didn’t wait for him to open my door, though. Instead, I yanked it open and got inside, slamming it closed behind me.
He looked at me with amusement on his face before rounding the car and getting in on his own side.
He looked over at me as he started it up, and the familiar rumble of sound made lightning pour through my veins, reminding me of times past.
God, I needed to get home.
“Home?” he asked.
I nodded, feeling the familiar feeling of exhaustion start to set in.
“You look tired,” he said.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m always tired.”
Having chronic anemia was exhausting.
And I was damn close to needing another transfusion.
Which sucked because apparently Louis was at home and would want to donate.
I wouldn’t let him, though.
Not this time.
“How long are you here for?” I asked, changing the subject.
He frowned at me, wanting to stay on that other subject, but I was honestly tired of being ‘that sick girl.’ I just wanted to be a normal teenager.
Just for once.
And now that Louis wasn’t around, I realized that he’d always treated me as such.
With kid’s gloves.
“I’m here for two weeks before I deploy,” he murmured.
My stomach sank into my feet.
“I thought you were going to get stationed overseas. Like Japan or something,” I said.
He shrugged. “Not in the cards right now, I guess.”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
On one hand, it wasn’t my right to be pissy or upset about anything. He wasn’t mine anymore.
But I’d always cared for him—and to be honest with myself, loved him.
Not that I would be admitting that to him.
He didn’t need to know that what he did and didn’t do still affected me.
So instead of saying a word, I sat there silently, contemplating the miles that passed, and refusing to think about how freakin’ scared I was that he was being deployed.
“You’re awfully quiet over there,” Louis said once we were almost to my house.
When I didn’t say anything, he kept talking. “You look beautiful tonight.”
My heart caught in my throat.
He sure knew how to say things to make me feel things that I shouldn’t be feeling.
“When you came down those stairs today, I thought I was going to lose my shit,” he murmured. “Black dress. Bare feet.”
I didn’t say anything still, wondering if he was trying to accomplish something with the words he was saying.
“When you sent me your hair, I thought I was going to lose my shit then, too,” he said softly. “But I kind of like the short. It’s cute.”
I licked my lips, eyes staying directly in front of me.
“Knew why you did it,” he continued. “You were pissed. You wanted to hurt me like I hurt you.”
He had no fuckin’ clue.
That was the thing.
He had no clue how badly he’d hurt me.
In fact, if he had, he wouldn’t be here right now. He wouldn’t be taking me home because he would know how much this meant to me. How much I still wanted him back.
How, after nine months without him, I still dreamed about him every night. I still reached for him every morning.
We might not have gotten to do all those things that usual couples do—i.e., sex, sleeping over, things like that—but I still yearned for those things.
I still wanted them so badly that it hurt.
Him being here right now? It felt like a knife straight to the heart.
“Some little asshole tried to take it from me once, and I lost my shit on him,” he continued. “Gave him a black eye.”
I finally turned and stared at Louis.
“Louis, why did you care?” I asked softly. “What’s it matter if someone took it?”
He didn’t reply.
Instead, he parked the car by the side of my house and got out.