Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
“Not sure.” I could have just said it was Bellamy, but I didn’t need any more bad blood between the three of us than there already was. “I did call Olivia to come to get you…”
With reddening cheeks, he stumbled to his feet. “Did your little fuck buddy do this?” His angry gaze met mine.
“He’s not my fuck buddy. Jackson, I’m sorry I—”
“Save it, Drew. I don’t give a shit.” Then he turned and walked off, crossing the lawn as the sprinklers cut on.
I stood on my porch, hating that this was the state of things. Jackson and Olivia had always been nice to me and were my only friends when I’d been forced to visit Dad over various holidays. And now Jackson hated me.
I had no control over Bellamy, but I knew I was to blame for this—because I had let him believe Jackson was my boyfriend. Not that it should have warranted a reaction. Bellamy and I weren’t together, and he was all over some blonde. Then again, said blonde did trigger the homicidal rage that led me to destroy his car. So, I guessed I was a hypocrite. If I made him even half as crazy as he made me, this was a problem.
One I really needed to walk away from.
22
Bellamy
Monday morning, students crowded the halls, cramming their backpacks inside their lockers. I stopped in the middle of the hallway when I saw Drew standing at hers. She was supposed to be suspended. For a week. Yet, there she was, yanking books out of her locker before slamming the metal door. I shouldered through the group of cheerleaders trying to sell their stupid spirit ribbons. And she must have felt me coming because I was about two feet behind her when she lifted her middle finger. “Leave me alone,” she said.
“So that’s where the line is, huh? Not getting you fired. Not ruining your car. But dropping your passed-out boyfriend onto your porch in a bikini?”
She stopped in the middle of the hall and whipped around to face me, forcing students to go around us. “The line was about three miles back. Jackson is not my boyfriend, so just leave him out of it, Bellamy."
Not her boyfriend. Right. So, he was just a fuck buddy because she was at his house more than her own. “The guy you’re fucking then.”
“I just said, he’s not my boyfriend!”
“I’m not your boyfriend, either, but I came on your face Friday night, didn’t I?” And as shit as I felt for saying that, I wanted her anger because it told me I meant something to her.
“And made sure everyone knew about it." Students poured around us as she glared at me. “Is that what you do to your Barrington whores? Did you come on Blondie later that night, too?”
I bit back the smile, then stoked the flames. “You envision that, baby girl?” I tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, and she jerked away from my touch. “Me coming all over her while her nails raked down my spine?”
She went to walk off, and I grabbed her arm, bringing her to an abrupt halt in the middle of the packed corridor. Her jaw clenched before she slapped her palm against my chest. “Fuck you, Bellamy. Leave Jackson alone.”
And the anger in her tone—I didn’t like. It was over him, and I only wanted that for me. “I’ll leave Bennett alone when you leave him alone.” Because I didn’t trust that he wouldn't hurt her.
The air crackled with static electricity, our gazes locked for long moments before Drew finally yanked free of my hold and stormed off, shoving her way through the crowded hallway.
We ignored each other at lunch and every time we passed in the hall. But when she fell into the chair beside me in biology, her perfume caught in the air, and I couldn't control my thoughts. Her. Me. Bennett’s bed. “Let me guess. Daddy got you out of your suspension?”
She refused to look at me. “Right now, I’d love for you to get suspended.”
I moved toward her, my jaw ticcing. “Figure you get rid of the devil, hell might be more tolerable?”
“Yes, because I hate you.”
I glanced around the room at the girls I knew hated her just because she was Barrington—forget that she was hot. Then looked at the guys I knew would be giving her more grief than she could handle if they didn’t think she was, in some fashion, mine. “I can assure you,” I whispered, “the little dance with the devil you’ve been doing is the only thing that’s kept the demons from ripping you to shreds, baby girl.”
Her nostrils flared, the anger of hers I knew so well sparking to life as she placed a palm on my thigh and leaned in. “You think I can’t handle myself? Because the way I see it, I handle you just fine.”