Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Also, I really need help. I don’t want to stay in Wolf Ridge after graduation. I have to get out of here.
“Hey, Lincoln.” I fall into step with the much taller student as we head out of the classroom.
“Hey.”
“I…by any chance do you tutor? I mean, would you be willing to go over my test with me and show me what I did wrong?”
Okay, that’s stupid. The teacher literally just said she would do that for us if we came in before school. But I can’t come in early because of my whole ride situation.
Wilde has been gone for the last four days, which has been a relief. After the pack elders read him the riot act, he flew to Durham to pack up his bedroom at the frat house and drive back in his Jeep.
“Sure.” Lincoln snatches my test from my hand and gives it a quick scan. “Do you want to go over it now? We could go to the library. Or my place, if you want.” He raises a brow. “Or would your stepbrother kick my ass?” He doesn’t sound the least bit scared by that prospect. More like he’s trying to figure out what the deal is.
“Yeah, he’s a little…overprotective.” I let out a shaky laugh. “And kind of a dick.” And then, because it’s important to me to prove I’m not being bullied by my stepbrother, I say, “Your house sounds great.”
Of course, the moment I do, I realize at least ten people around us have turned their heads to look. They all heard the whole damn conversation.
I have no doubt Wilde will hear about this the moment he gets back into town.
Well, good.
That will show him he can’t run my life.
I stop at my locker and grab my backpack and books then walk out to the parking lot with Lincoln. His sister Lauren is already sitting in the passenger seat. He–or they, I don’t know–drive a Tesla, which is a seriously sweet ride.
“Rayne’s coming home with us. We’re going over the Calculus test.”
“Oh, cool. Yeah, Lincoln has a great math brain. Me, not so much. I’m in Advanced Algebra.”
“So, how come he gets to drive?” I demand as Lincoln starts the car.
“He doesn’t. I mean, we take turns,” she says.
“Cool.”
I imagine what it would be like to have some brotherly cooperation from Wilde. Like if we’d become siblings a little younger.
No, it would never happen. There’s nothing brotherly about Wilde. Including the way my body reacts to him.
“Can you drive me home when we’re done?” I ask, suddenly realizing there’s no way in hell I want Logan to catch wind of this friendship, either. I’m sure Wilde gets his biases from his dad. Human friendships are frowned on.
“Yeah. Of course.” Lincoln drives easily. Without thought. Like he’s been doing it for a million years, not one or two.
I guess Wilde was right. Humans can do it without any problem. I was making driving a much harder thing than I needed to. Even though he was a total asshole about it, I’m sort of grateful he just forced me to give it a go. Now that I’ve broken the seal on it, I’m not so scared or intimidated by it.
Lincoln and Lauren’s house is a stunning mansion nestled into a steep mountain bank with wall-to-wall windows that look out over the city. I gape as we drive up. It has a three-car garage with doors that automatically open as he pulls in.
“What does your dad do?” I ask.
“He was an investment broker,” Lincoln says. “I mean, he still is, but from home now instead of the Manhattan office.”
“You’re from New York?”
“Yep.”
“No accent, though.”
He grins. “What kind of accent did you think I’d have?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. East coast.”
“Do you think you have an accent?”
“Of course not.” I smile.
Their dad isn’t around to greet us–I assume he’s in his office working.
There are three guitars standing on end beside an amp in the living room. One acoustic, one electric, and one bass. “Who plays guitar?” I ask.
“I do,” Lincoln says casually. “Lauren plays piano.” He lifts his chin toward the grand piano in the corner.
“Cool.”
Lincoln and I sit at the dining room table, which is positioned in front of giant sliding glass doors that lead out to a covered deck on the side of the house. The studying takes half an hour. Lincoln’s a good teacher, and it suddenly all makes sense. I think I just missed a few concepts at the beginning of the year because my mind was occupied with my mom’s pregnancy dilemma and then sudden marriage, followed by our change of homes.
My stomach growls loudly as we finish. “Oops. For some reason, I can’t seem to eat enough food lately.”
“Sorry, I should have offered you a snack.” Lincoln gets up and walks to a pantry packed with fancy gourmet and European-looking foods. “Help yourself. Protein bar, maybe?” He pulls a couple out of a box, hands me one, and rips one open for himself. It’s chocolate and caramel and has 20 grams of protein. I have to work not to shove the whole thing in my mouth at once.