Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 92(@200wpm)___ 74(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 92(@200wpm)___ 74(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
Liam is smitten when he sees the beauty stranded on the side of the road in front of him. He knows immediately she’s not from around here, and that there’s little chance of a blue-collar guy like him getting an upper-class stunner like her. But what choice does she have other than take shelter with him until morning?
But Liam has no intention of letting Jess go tomorrow. He’s been waiting until just
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1
Jess
Everything’s bigger in Texas. That’s what they say. Well, apparently that applies to these long-ass highways in the middle of nowhere, specifically the one that’s taking me from my aunt and uncle’s house back to Austin, where I now live.
According to my thermostat, it’s a blazing 112 degrees outside, and my air conditioner can barely keep up. I have all four vents aiming straight at my face blowing full blast, and I’m still on the verge of breaking into a sweat.
It’s so flat here. Like God took a pen and ruler and just drew a straight line for thousands of miles and dotted it with mesquite trees. I always want to call them mosquito trees—that’s really the only way I can even remember what they’re called.
It’s nothing like New Hampshire, where I moved from six months ago. It hasn’t rained once, obviously hasn’t snowed, and I doubt it ever will. As far as I’m concerned, it’s just going to continue to be hot as hell, and I’m going to be here without a single friend in the world.
I had to take a year off from school to move here when my dad took his new job at a law firm in Austin, which was fine with me, to be honest, considering I’m not sure about the whole college thing anyway.
Dad wants me to follow in his footsteps and go pre-law, but nothing could interest me less. I’ve seen how much time he spends sitting behind his desk, shuffling legal papers, staring at his laptop screen, and it looks like hell to me.
Sure, he makes a lot of money, and I’ve never had much to complain about as far as that part of my life goes. But if making money was all I was concerned with, well, there are plenty of easier routes I could go these days than law school.
My friend Gina from back home—she dropped out of Boston University after her first year when her OnlyFans page started to pop off and she started making over fifty-thousand a month. And she wasn’t even selling nudes.
But then again, I don’t have the personality for that either. I want to do something I actually want to do. But I’m not completely sure what that is yet.
Suddenly, my car lurches forward like I’ve stepped on the gas.
“What the hell?”
As if in response, it sinks back like I’ve hit the brakes. It lurches forward again, like the car itself is coughing. A sickly sputtering sound comes from the muffler.
“Oh, God,” I groan. I glance down at the fuel gauge, but everything looks fine. According to it, I should have a quarter tank left. But again, the car lurches forward and sputters again. “No!” I cry out. “No, don’t you fucking dare!”
This doesn’t make any sense. The car is acting like it’s running out of gas, but how can that be?
This has happened to me before once, but I was back in high school then. I had just gotten my license and was a total ditz when it came to driving. I was driving my dad’s old beater that didn’t beep or warn you when you were low, and I just ran out of gas on the way home. Luckily I wasn’t too far from the house, so after letting me wait for about a half hour, he came and brought me some gas.
But this—this is definitely the same thing happening all over again.
The car coughs and sputters a final time and shuts off completely. The power steering goes, and I’m barely able to turn the wheel to get myself off onto the breakdown line of the highway. Thankfully there’s no one behind me on this deserted stretch of road in the middle of nowhere.
“Oh, come on!” I cry out, pulling my phone from my pocket. I barely even have a bar out here, but I dial my dad anyway.
The first call doesn’t even go through. The second one does, but when he picks up, I can’t even make out his voice.
“Dad!” I’m practically screaming. “Dad! Can you hear me?”
All I get back is a hiss and a load of static that barely sounds like his voice. “Listen, I ran out of gas somewhere…oh God, where the hell am I? Listen, I’ll text you my location, okay? I need you to bring me some gas!”
Something flashes in my rearview window, and I look up to see a pickup truck approaching. “Hang on, Dad. I might have found someone to help. I’ll call you back when I have better reception.”
I hang up and realize I’m starting to sweat to death from the lack of AC inside the car. It hasn’t even been five minutes and the Texas heat is already starting to bake me like a chicken.
I step out of the car, my completely useless cell phone in hand, and watch the truck approach.