Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 130673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
“This was a mistake,” he conceded, sounding serious and regretful for the first time in, well, ever. “I’d never—”
“Yeah. Me either. Gross.”
His throat worked as he swallowed. He didn’t make a move. Neither did I. There it was again—that look. Like he was holding back from saying something.
“What?” I rolled my eyes to stop them from watering.
“Nothing.” His voice was strained. “I’m sorry.”
“That you were born? Yeah, so am I.” I plastered the bowl to my chest, sidestepping him to go upstairs.
He moved in the same direction, trying to give me space. I stepped to the other side. He did the same. I growled in frustration.
“Get out of my way,” I said. I had to go upstairs and flick the bean before I exploded.
“Trying to.”
“Well, just stand still, and I’ll go around you,” I snapped.
I didn’t mean to be this harsh, this awful, to him, but my ego had taken a huge blow, and I was trying to salvage whatever was left of it. Rhyland’s ego didn’t need stroking; it needed its own freaking zip code. He’d gained notoriety for being the hottest player in town. And he went to a good college. He’d survive.
Rhyland stood stiffly, his jaw so tense I thought it was going to snap out of his mouth. I sidestepped him with a headshake.
“Enjoy Piper,” I spat out, taking the stairs up.
He snatched the hem of my shirt, pulling me to him. The pretzels flew into the air, landing on the floor. My chest slammed against his. He grabbed my hips, sneering down at me, disgusted with himself.
“Fine. I lied. I do want you.”
“Join the line, loser,” I huffed, determined not to thaw under his touch.
“I want you like I’ve never wanted anything in my fucking life.” His voice was thick and dark. “I know I’m a pig, but I can’t stop fantasizing about fucking you.”
“Show me,” I dared him, my voice barely trembling.
He clasped my jaw and tilted me against the wall as his lips collided with mine. A strangled gasp escaped me, and he swallowed it whole, opening his mouth. Our tongues touched, electricity zinging between them, and my eyes rolled over in their sockets, fluttering shut as fireworks exploded against my eyelids.
My whole universe shrank to this moment—to the sensation of his lips on mine, the stroke of his tongue, the way his hand fastened itself around my waist when he held me. His lips were firm, smooth, perfect. He tasted of debauchery, of decadent sin. I wanted more of it. I threaded my fingers through his hair, the sound of my heartbeat drowning out the moans and gasps we exchanged between us. All my blood rushed to my clit, to the tips of my nipples, to my toes as they curled over the cheap plywood. For the first time, I understood the term “falling in love.” This was what it felt like: plunging into something dark and delicious and unknown. Gravity abandoned me. My knees buckled. Our kiss deepened, becoming faster, more desperate, urgent to steal more, more, more before we got caught. His hands tightened around me like a belt. My hands fluttered all over him like a butterfly. And I already missed him. Missed this. Most of all, I missed the part of my heart he’d taken from me the moment his lips touched mine. I knew, with depressing certainty, I was never getting it back.
That I would compare every other boy to him, and every other boy would fall short, because that was just what they’d be: a boy.
Rhyland was a man.
“What the fuck?” a feminine voice shrilly demanded.
A bucket of ice water doused the flame between us. Rhyland pulled away, righting me against the wall, wiping his swollen lips with the back of his arm.
Piper was standing at the backyard door holding empty beer bottles by their necks between her fingers, wearing a white tee and a pair of black leggings, just like me. Figures. It was all the reminder I needed that Rhyland hadn’t meant to kiss me. He’d meant to kiss her.
“Rhy?” Piper demanded, her saucer-size eyeballs shifting between us frantically. “What’s going on?”
“You can’t tell Row.” Rhyland’s flat voice was eerily scary. It held a threat, a promise of something bad. I liked that he cared more about Row than about salvaging whatever they had together, even if it made me a bad person.
“Are you hooking up with his baby sister?” Piper’s eyes pooled with tears, and I felt bad for her—and for me—that we’d caught the attention of a mythical creature as lovely and devastating as Rhyland.
“Would you keep it the fuck down?” Rhyland snarled gruffly, grabbing her by the arm and walking her over, away from me. His eyes frantically searched for Row outside. “It was a mistake.”
“A mistake?” Piper and I asked in unison.