Total pages in book: 204
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
“She fancies the pants off you,” Jake says, and we both glance back to find Lauren still at the window, watching us.
I smile to myself. “Who doesn’t?”
“You’re a bighead.”
“Weird, though, eh? Since you’re the one with all the brains.”
Jake nudges me, and I stagger a few paces on a chuckle. “I heard Curtis White screwed her in the pub toilets a few weeks ago.”
I look back to the house again. Lauren is still at the window, still watching us. I shake off a weird shudder when she locks eyes with me. “Yeah,” I say quietly. “And I also heard she threatened to spread nasty rumors about him if he didn’t.”
“You’re kidding me?” Jake says, alarmed, swinging back to look at Lauren. He definitely shudders too.
“No kidding,” I confirm, pulling him back. Call me paranoid, but that girl isn’t right. There’s some kind of crazy in her eyes. “Anyway, back to the matter at hand.”
“What matter?”
“The party.”
“I’m gonna get so drunk,” Jake declares.
“Easy.” I laugh, stopping us as we reach the main road. “Just a few,” I reiterate, trying to sound serious, hiding my smile. The shackles are off; he’s being himself. But he’s not used to alcohol so I need to monitor him.
“Fine, just a few.”
I reclaim him, slinging my arm around his shoulder again. “I love you, bro.”
“Love you too, Jesse.’ He moves stealthily and gets me in a headlock. “You’re a cocky fucker, but I love you.”
“Don’t swear, Jake.” He’s too good to swear. Too pure. “It doesn’t suit you.”
“Yes, the good boy mustn’t swear,” he says tiredly. “For fuck’s sake.”
Wrestling my way out of the headlock, I throw him a sideways scowl. “Watch your fucking mouth,” I grumble, and he breaks down in fits of hysterics.
I roll my eyes and give him a playful shove in the back.
I look down at the bottle of water in my hand. It’s not what I had in mind for this evening, but as I see Jake chatting animatedly with a group of lads from school, I know that my sober state is worth it, just to see Jake relaxed and enjoying himself. He catches me observing him and breaks away from the group, joining me on the wall. “Why aren’t you drinking?” he asks, claiming a shot off a nearby tray.
“Had enough,” I lie. And so has he. He definitely wobbled a bit on his way over. I reach for the tiny glass, but he moves fast, necking it before I can confiscate it. “No more,” I warn, and he grins.
“Quit complaining,” he says. “You’re the one who kidnapped me and dragged me here.”
“Dragged? Give me a fucking break.”
He laughs, and then he sighs. It’s a deep sigh. “There’s not one girl in that house who hasn’t made a move on you tonight.”
I glance around, seeing I’m under the scrutiny of many girls. They’re probably wondering why I’m not flouncing around wreaking havoc but, and it’s a revelation, I’m enjoying watching Jake let his hair down. “Jealous?” I ask with a cheeky smile.
“Kind of.”
“Don’t be. It’s exhausting.”
“Shut up. Your looks are one of your best assets.”
“It’s my only asset,” I mumble quietly, taking a sip of my water. “And you can shut up too. You’re beautiful inside and out.”
There’s silence for a few moments, Jake fiddling with his beer bottle. He’s thinking. I can literally see the cogs of his mind whirling as he chews his bottom lip. I don’t nudge him to speak his mind. He will eventually, and my twin senses know exactly what he’s going to say.
“Why don’t you resent me?” he asks, looking up at me.
And there we have it. I fucking hate the sorrow in his eyes. “Why would I resent you?” I love the clever fucker with everything I have. And more.
“Mum and Dad. They’re so hard on you.”
“I can handle them.” I stopped trying to match Jake’s academic ability long ago. It was exhausting, and the constant disappointment from my parents was hurtful. At least now they have a reason to be disappointed in me. But that’s on them. It would never make me resent Jake.
“And what about when I’m at Oxford?”
“What are you talking about?” I ask seriously. “I’m going to Oxford too.”
Jake’s bark of laughter is warranted. “And what will you be studying?”
“Sexology.”
“You don’t need to go to Oxford for that. Just call Uncle Carmichael.”
I laugh, grabbing Jake’s hand when he reaches for another shot. What the hell has gotten into him? He scowls. I raise my eyebrows. “Enough.”
“Since when did you become such a spoilsport?” Jake asks, but he relents, settling for his beer instead. “Have you met his new girlfriend?”
“Uncle Carmichael’s?” I don’t know why I’m asking. The whole family is talking about it. Mum and Dad looked like they were about to self-combust when Dad’s little brother, Carmichael, rolled up in his swanky Aston to pick me up for a lunch date with his new, younger girlfriend in tow. Sarah. She’s only a year or so older than I am. There are only ten years between Jake, me, and Uncle Carmichael, but still. Even I raised a brow, and not much shocks me when it comes to Carmichael.