Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 108049 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108049 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry about this,” I mumble in Taylor’s ear.
“Sorry about what?” She looks uneasy, gripping my hand tightly as we follow Kai to the smaller bar at the back of the club. I still can’t believe he’s here. Goddamn Kai Turner, still scrawny and stinking of weed. I haven’t seen him since I moved clear across the country to get away from what we did.
The fact that he’s tracked me down, all the way to some random joint in Buffalo, tells me nothing good will come of this reunion.
I’ve got Taylor’s hand in mine, holding on for dear life. Half because I’m afraid she might take off on me. Half because I’m not sure what I’ll do to this kid if we’re left alone.
“The hell are you doing here, Kai?” I demand.
He smirks. I know that look too well. It worked better when we were teenagers. Now it reads like the guy trying to sell you gold-plated watches out of a backpack.
“Good to see you, too, brother.” He slaps me on the shoulder. “Ain’t this a fucking coincidence.”
I shrug his hand off me. “Bullshit.” There are no coincidences or happy accidents where Kai is concerned. Since we were in middle school, he’s always had an angle. Back then, so did I. “How’d you find me?”
His leering eyes slide to Taylor, who shrinks at my side. Everything about the way he looks at her makes me want to lay him out.
“Alright, you got me. I’m living in the Big Apple now. Some of my boys were playing in the tournament and I thought I might run into you, so I tagged along. Tried hitting you up. Weird, though.” His pointed gaze slides back to me. “Your number’s disconnected.”
“I got a new one.” To lose people like him.
Taylor grasps my arm, questioning me with her big turquoise eyes.
Christ, I want to get her away from him. I’d leave if I didn’t think he’d just follow us. And frankly, I can’t trust what might be waiting outside the club. I know Hunter and the guys would throw down for me in a heartbeat, but I’ve got no way to get their attention, which means right now I’m on my own.
“This your girl?” Kai sees my discomfort and focuses in on Taylor just to get under my skin. I can’t tell if he wants a fight, or if he wants me to ditch her so there isn’t a witness. “Guess you have gone east coast.”
“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, fists clenched. At this point I don’t give a damn about getting tossed out of the club. I push Taylor a step behind me to shield her.
“Nah, nothing, man. I’d hit that ass. And I’m sure she’s got a great personality.” He flashes a toothy grin. “You just used to have standards.”
Taylor drops my hand. Shit.
“Fuck you, asshole. Get lost.” I give Kai’s chest a shove and then try to reach for Taylor again.
“I’m gonna go,” she says hastily.
“Please. Just wait for me, T. I’ll go with—”
“Aww, come on, baby, I’m just messing with him,” Kai shouts after Taylor, but she’s already gone.
A red haze washes over my field of vision. “Listen to me,” I growl. I put one hand on Kai’s shoulder and force him between the bar and the wall. “We’re not friends. We aren’t anything. Stay the hell away from me.”
“So your fake ass got a little money now and a fancy school and you forget all about your real friends, huh? You’re still a poser, Con. I know where you come from and I know who you are.”
“I’m not messing around, Kai. You come near me again and see what happens.”
“Nah, man.” He pushes my hand away and squares up to me. At barely 5’9” he doesn’t even reach my shoulders. “You and me got history. I know things, remember? Like who helped someone break into your step-daddy’s mansion and trash the place. You don’t get to wash your hands of me that easy.”
I want to fucking hit him. For finding me. For dragging his drama back into my life. For reminding me I’m still just a punk piece of shit pretending to fit in with the fancy kids we used to make fun of.
But I go after Taylor instead.
17
Taylor
I feel like such a jackass.
Taking refuge from the throbbing music and pulsating lights down a hallway outside the restrooms, I press myself into a corner and try to take a deep breath. It’s too hot in here, too crowded. This place is pulling the air from my lungs.
What the hell was I thinking letting Summer talk me into borrowing this stupid dress?
And the hair.
The makeup.
The silver stilettos.
This person isn’t real. She isn’t me. Sure, it seemed worth it to see the look on Conor’s face when he spotted me across the room. But even a good disguise can’t hide what I am: a joke. Conor’s charity case.