Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“Hendrix had his nose broken.”
“Who would punch Hendrix?” His brows tugged together. “Are they dead?”
“Zepp. And I don’t think he’s dead.”
He nodded as though all was right with the world again. Balance restored.
I left his house. Two blocks over, music from the party could be heard. Screams. The closer I got, the louder it grew.
A mass of people covered the porch. I could just picture the carnage inside the party I wasn’t invited to.
I brushed past a guy pissing off the steps and walked into a complete disaster. Beer cans were everywhere, and some guy had passed out on the stairs already. Before I made it all the way into the crowded living room, I saw two naked girls lap dancing Wolf, one with her shaved pussy in his face.
“Where’s Hendrix?” I asked.
“Outside,” he said without tearing his eyes from her crotch.
I stormed through the kitchen, onto the porch, and past a guy hurling into a concrete planter.
A few feet across the dark yard, lo and behold, I found Hendrix starfished in the middle of the pine straw-covered trampoline.
“Hendrix?”
His arm shot straight up. “Yes?”
“Oh good, you’re not dead.”
“My heart is dead. My dick is drunk. Zepp hit me, and you went to see Chadwick Beaverlichtenstein on my exit-of-a-womb day.”
“Wow, you’re dramatic. I was at Kyle’s.” I crossed the yard and stopped beside the trampoline. “What did you do to piss off Zepp?”
“I called his Medusa a bitch.”
So, I’d set a precedent for all backstabbing girls to be “Medusas.” I swallowed down that ball of shit. Without admitting the truth, I deserved it. “You can’t call Zepp’s girlfriend a bitch.”
“She’s not his girlfriend anymore, and she is.” He sat up and nearly toppled right back over.
Under the moonlight, I could make out the blood crusting his upper lip and shirt. I wanted to punch Zepp in the dick for hurting him. With a sigh, I hopped onto the covered springs, crawled across the trampoline, and then flopped down beside him. “You stink of vodka.”
He swatted something beside him. Then a plastic, nearly empty vodka bottle landed in front of me. “You left me on my birthday.”
“I’m not really into strippers.”
“I had a stripper crotch thrust at me earlier. All cooter bush and—” he hiccuped— “I told her, ‘Aw, hell to the fuck no,’ and then I shoved her and that cooter bush right off me. I shoved her off because of you.” He swatted at me and missed. “Then Zepp hit me.”
He’d pushed off a stripper …because of me.
The wind kicked up, sending pine straw across the trampoline and a chill across my skin. “I don’t think you pushed off a stripper because of me, Hendrix. You’ve let plenty of girls cooters near you.” I tried not to sound bitter about that.
He attempted to twirl a piece of my hair around his finger. “Only because I was trying to forget you.”
As sick as it made me, I could almost understand it. I’d known the truth, and I wanted to be able to forget him, just to stop the pain. If he’d hurt me the way I’d hurt him, maybe I would have been able to screw a string of random guys.
I sucked in a shaky breath and glanced at him. “Did it work?”
“No.” He took my hand and slapped it over his hard chest. “Because you’re right there.”
I stared at my palm clasped beneath his. “I hated it every single time you sent me that text telling me you were having a party.”
“I did it to piss you off.” He hiccupped. “But you wanna know a secret?” He rolled over, swept my hair away from my neck, and placed his lips by my ear. “I lied. There were no parties. But there was a Chadwick Beaverlichtenstein.”
To piss me off…I was so tired of the lies, the pretending and games, the tit-for-tat. Secrets when we never used to have any. “Chad and I played Go Fish. I haven’t slept with anyone since I left Dayton, Hendrix. Not since you.”
“Then why don’t you love me anymore, Lola?” His hand cupped my face, pulling me toward him. “I still love you.”
I closed my eyes, swallowing around the jagged lump in my throat.
Maybe I should have bitten my tongue, walked away, but I couldn’t do this anymore. Keeping him at arm's length when he was so close was impossible. He was everything I would ever want. And I’d live a lie to have him. I’d even take his resentment if I had to. “I do love you, Hendrix,” I whispered. “More than anything.”
His lips slammed against mine in a drunken kiss. He probably wouldn’t remember this in the morning, but I couldn’t forget. I couldn’t go back.
* * *
Chapter 36
HENDRIX
Lola woke me up, told me she was going to see Gracie, then passed me an ice pack and two Tylenol.