Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“Nobody’s going to screw around with you now.” He sounds grim, determined, and I wonder which of us he’s trying to convince. His jaw tightens before he adds, “After yesterday? Everybody’s going to think twice.”
I hope so, and for once, it’s not only for my sake. I should not feel protective of him, not after what he’s done. Not when so much of my trouble is thanks to him. But I can’t help hoping he doesn’t get into worse trouble than he’s already in. I hate to think of people trying to lure him into fights over me.
Even if my pulse flutters a little when I imagine it. And not because I’m worried or afraid.
But to think he’s ready to fight for me if it comes to it. Nobody has ever fought for me. Maybe that’s why it was so easy to sleep peacefully with him last night. Maybe that’s why I was able to forgive him yesterday.
He fought for me when nobody else would. Especially not my own mother.
There’s not much time to think about that, considering how fast Carter drives to school. He takes the turn into the parking lot fast enough that I grab onto the door handle for dear life. I can almost taste my own heart when I gasp. “Wow! Let’s try to make it to class alive.”
“I got us here, didn’t I?” He even manages to find a decent spot that won’t require too much running across the lot. He’s barely got the truck in park before I unbuckle my belt and open the door.
“Wait a second.” His voice is sharp enough to keep me in my seat. I turn to him a split second before he takes my face in his hands and covers my mouth with his.
The surprise takes my breath away, just as much as the sensation of his lips on mine. There’s passion behind it, and desire, and I don’t know how to feel or what to think. It’s nice—almost too nice, and that’s what scares me a little.
But in a good way. Like I’m about to get on a roller coaster.
He even makes it a point to trot beside me as we hurry to class. Like he’s making a point, ensuring everybody knows he’s protecting me now. I’m overwhelmed and, as long as I’m being honest with myself, a little uncomfortable at the attention he brings. Nobody says anything for once, but I feel their curiosity. Their judgmental stares.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned how to deal with, it’s people staring at me.
But usually when they do, I’m all alone. I’m not alone now.
“I’ll see you later,” he says when he drops me off. “Wait here for me, and I’ll meet up with you.” I don’t have time to ask him if he’s for real before he jogs off.
My head is spinning, and my heart is fluttering, and I really hope this isn’t all for show. I mean, even if it is, he’s helping me. Nobody is going to mess with me while he’s around.
But I realize once I slide into the closest seat to the door that I kind of hope he’s for real. More than kind of.
And when I leave the classroom and find him coming my way down the hall, I smile before I can help myself. I wish he didn’t look so much like my savior.
It’s a thought that stays with me the rest of the day as Carter chaperones me from one class to another. He hovers almost protectively once we reach the cafeteria, where we have lunch with the usual group of people. They all seem ready to forget what happened earlier this week—at least, they don’t mention it when we sit down with them and attack our food.
“Thank god,” Carter groans after sinking his teeth into an Italian sub. “We were in too much of a rush to have breakfast this morning.”
“Were we?” Wren arches an eyebrow at me, thanks to his choice of words.
“Yeah, we stayed up late, watching movies,” I explain. I shudder to think of the reaction we would get if everybody knew we slept together in the literal sense. After everything that went down this week? I would basically lose all credibility with the girls, who must still expect me to hate him. At least he doesn’t add anything to the story. He’s too busy scarfing down his sandwich, thank god.
To change the subject, I ask, “Have you girls ever watched the Iron Man movies? I really like them.”
“Oh, you’ve got her watching them with you?” Tucker almost looks jealous. “I can’t get Maya into any of the Marvel movies.”
“Next thing you know, you’ll be telling us you like watching football,” Maya jokes.
I can only shrug, wincing. “I actually do.”
For once, when everybody laughs, they’re not laughing at me. They’re laughing with me. I can laugh, too, and it feels amazing. I could get used to it.