Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 73230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Quickly, I dressed in skin tight volleyball shorts.
The shorts molded to every single curve of my body, from my waist to about four inches below my crotch.
The shirt I chose said, ‘We hit it hard. We get it from our mommas.’
It was the one I’d had made in high school during our school playoffs.
It was on the verge of needing to be thrown away, but it was my lucky shirt.
And it was soft.
And I liked the way Casten’s eyes travelled to my chest the moment I walked out of the closet.
“Nice shirt,” he rumbled.
“My car?” I repeated as I sat on the bed.
“Your car’s fine. They just stole the radio…and your rims,” Casten said slowly.
I blinked.
“They stole my rims…but not my tires?” I asked, looking up at him as I smoothed my socks up over my calves, then shoved both of my feet into my tennis shoes.
He nodded.
“They did,” he confirmed.
“But…how?” confusion clouding my face as I stood up and faced him.
He had his arms crossed over his chest, and he was staring at me like he wasn’t affected by me at all.
“They took them off the car, slashed the tires with fucking bolt cutters or something, and stole the rims,” he said.
“Bolt cutters?” I shouted.
He nodded.
“Yeah,” he confirmed. “The core of the tire is made of a solid structure of wire and metal.”
That was news to me.
Although, I’d never actually had a flat tire before, so I’d never had the chance see what they were made of on the inside.
“That’s unfortunate,” I grumbled. “Can you take me to work?”
He shook his head.
“No,” he said. “I have to go to work myself.”
I blinked.
“Then why are you here?” I crossed my arms.
He shrugged. “I thought you’d want to know about your car.”
“So you thought I’d want to know,” I drawled, leaving the room. “But you weren’t willing to help me get to work.”
He followed me into the kitchen where I poured myself a travel mug full of coffee.
Once I had it creamy and at the perfect tastiness, I grabbed my purse and phone out of my room, then exited the apartment.
All the while under Casten’s watchful eyes.
He followed me out, and I faintly heard both locks click.
I vaguely wondered how he managed to lock the deadbolt but decided not to worry about it.
If I hurried, I could make it to the high school in less than twenty minutes, but I had to walk fast.
It was something I’d done before.
My car wasn’t the most reliable, but it was all mine and it was paid for.
So there was that.
“What are you doing?” Casten questioned from behind me.
I looked back over my shoulder at him.
“I’m walking. What does it look like I’m doing?” I growled, turning back around.
I waved to the old lady that ran a hardware store to the left of the bar I lived above, but, as usual, she didn’t wave back.
That was because she didn’t have any arms, not because she was rude.
She was a nearly life-long, pack a day smoker, and because of a smoking related circulatory disease, both of her arms had been amputated.
Not that I’d asked.
She’d been very forthcoming with her business, as well as everyone else’s.
“Why are you walking? Why not just call your sister?” He was right behind me, dogging my steps.
I shrugged.
“My sister has Vitaly,” I shrugged. “By the time she got all the way out here, I’d wind up being late when I could’ve just walked and been on time. And there’s no reason to get her all the way out here to just to give me a ride, when I’m so close to my work.”
Casten growled in frustration, then I heard his boots hit the pavement at my back.
I hadn’t expected him to let me walk on my own.
I’d expected him to offer me a ride.
But did he?
Hell no.
He did follow beside me at a snail’s pace, though.
“What are you doing?” I glared at him when he moved up to my side.
He was driving on the sidewalk, and I refrained from telling him that wasn’t allowed.
Casten struck me as the type of man to do what he wanted and ask for forgiveness later.
And he wouldn’t care, even if he were caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing.
“I’m riding beside you,” he sounded tired.
“Why?”
“Because if I asked you to get on my bike right now, you’d say no out of principle since I told you no earlier,” Casten said. “And I’m not letting you walk to work this early in the morning without someone to follow you, in case you get mugged or something.”
I cast him an annoyed glance. “What makes you think I can’t take care of myself?”
“I’m not saying you can’t,” he grunted. “I’m just saying you’re not going to get your ass kicked when I could’ve done something to prevent it. So I’m doing something.”