Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 131789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
ME: Ready for your first shaving party? You can borrow my razor.
RJ: Fuck that. I’m not shaving anything.
ME: It’ll do wonders for your muscle definition. Have you seen Silas’s abs??
RJ: You can just say you want to see me with my shirt off.
ME: Trust me, you’ve never felt anything better than clean bedsheets on freshly shaved legs.
RJ: Speaking of getting your legs under my sheets…
ME: Nice try.
RJ: Meet me tonight.
ME: Careful. Don’t want to sound desperate.
RJ: Sloane. Baby. Playing hard to get is less convincing after you spent the night with your tongue down my throat.
I feel a blush warm my cheeks. Damn it. He raises a good point. Still, I can’t cede the upper hand. That’s not how I roll.
ME: With that attitude, could be the last time…
RJ: You’re killing me.
“Heads up.” Eliza elbows me, whispering. “Incoming.”
Sister Margaret strides down the aisle between lab tables to glare at me. I tuck my phone in my lap.
“Eyes up front, ladies. No phones in class.”
“Her weirdo sister is probably at lunch having a nervous breakdown over her mashed potatoes.” Nikki’s friends all laugh as she shoots me a snide smirk.
“Silence, Ms. Taysom.”
I return Nikki’s smirk, mockingly asking, “Why don’t you get a therapist for your personality disorder and spare the rest of us, for Christ’s sake?”
The sister huffs and crosses herself before turning her blistering gaze back to me. “Detention, Ms. Tresscott. Not another word.”
Whatever. I hate that chick. I’ll take detention any day of the week if it means getting the last word against Nikki.
When Sister Margaret returns to the front of the room, I say fuck it and send a quick reply to RJ.
ME: Meet you at the spot tonight.
After detention, Casey is waiting for me in the parking lot to drive home. I ask how her day went, but she doesn’t have much to say. I take that to mean there hasn’t been a dramatic improvement since last week’s rocky start.
“So, hey,” I say, keeping my gaze on the road. “I need you to cover for me tonight.”
“Oh yeah?” She turns in her seat with a conspiratorial smile.
“I’m meeting RJ on the path later.”
“Sneaking out, you mean.”
“Whatever. Just in case Dad—”
“Yep, I got it. Operation Rendezvous is in effect.”
“You’re such a nerd.”
She leans back in her seat, quite amused with herself. “The no-boys rule didn’t stand a chance, huh?”
I heave a loud sigh. “Fine. Maybe I sort of like the guy.”
“Well, duh.”
It came on like one of those month-long flus. Or mono. The symptoms so subtle at first, they were nearly imperceptible. Then you get that tickle in your nose. The scratch in the back of your throat. Before you know it, you’re huddled in bed under a mountain of tissues, and you’ve caught a full-blown crush. I can’t stop thinking about the damn guy. Last night before bed I just lay there for an hour fantasizing about kissing him again. Which eventually led to other sorts of fantasies, all of them involving RJ’s mouth on various parts of my body and my mouth on one particular body part of his. I made myself come thinking about sucking him off, his fingers fisting my hair as he shuddered from release.
I roll down the window, suddenly feeling too hot in the car.
In the passenger seat, Casey reaches into the backpack at her feet and pulls her phone out, grinning to herself.
Suspicion flutters through me. “Who’s that?” I demand.
“Fenn. Just asking how school’s going.”
So him, she’ll talk to.
My gaze remains fixed straight ahead, because I don’t want her to see my distrustful expression and think I’m grilling her when I ask, “What’s that all about?”
From the corner of my eye, I watch Casey pull an innocent face. “What’s what?”
“You spend a lot of time talking to him.”
“We’re friends.”
“Friends,” I echo, wary.
“Yes, Sloane. Friends. I’d think that would make you happy. It’s not like I have a lot of those these days.”
I know she doesn’t mean it, but her words cut deep. Reminding me that if I’d been there for her like I’d promised, none of this would’ve happened.
“But Fenn? I mean, of all people.”
“He’s sweet.” She doesn’t look at me, but I see her smiling to herself while peering out the window. As if this car is big enough to hide that besotted smile. “And he makes me laugh.”
The kiss of death, right there.
“So you like him,” I push.
“I didn’t say that.”
She didn’t have to. Casey can talk to me like we’ve never met, but I’m not so dense I don’t notice my own sister watering the seeds of her little crush garden.
“Anyway, he’s probably dating someone, right?” she says.
Fuck my life.
“Fenn doesn’t date,” I remind her pointedly. “He plows through hookups like he’s going for a world record and never talks to them again. Not the type of arrangement you want anything to do with, Case.”