Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 128430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“I need gas. Do you mind if we detour to the station?”
“Nope, as long as you treat me to a hot dog and a thirty-two ouncer.” I used to be weirded out about him spending money on me, but after three months into our relationship, I know he truly doesn’t mind. He enjoys doing it, and I win. So sometimes he treats me.
Chuckling, he replies, “Deal.”
Gas stations aren’t on every corner in Atterton. We have to drive to the outskirts, which he loves as he massages the steering wheel in appreciation. I don’t mind because it gives me a few extra minutes to talk without the distraction of a show or movie, or other people being around.
“How was class?” I ask.
“I have a paper due for a mid-term grade in advanced psychology.”
“You seem to really be enjoying that class. Have you ever considered going into psychology or becoming a therapist?”
“Sure, but although I like the class, that profession doesn’t interest me.” He glances from the road to me quickly before returning to the road ahead. “It’s the first time a professor has treated me like my thoughts matter.”
“That’s amazing, babe. I’m happy for you.”
There’s a pause as I load the university’s student portal on my phone to see if my advanced business course test has been graded. His hand covers my thigh, and he asks, “Is everything all right?”
“It’s fine. I’ve been stressing about this test score for a week, and it’s still not graded.”
Pulling under the lights of the gas station, he parks at the pump. Not wanting him to rush around to open the door, I hop out. “What can I get you?”
“A soda.”
“You got it.” I drop my phone onto the seat and head inside. Making a beeline to the soda machine, I pull two large cups. But with all the choices, I debate whether I want to replenish my electrolytes or run off sugar for the rest of the night.
Sugar wins.
I fill one cup and then stick the other under the fountain. Holding the button, I look out the window at that incredible car and the man pumping gas into it.
Three months have flown fast. Cooper and I have settled into our relationship, generally stress-free. There’s just something cozy about my place, so we still spend more time at my apartment, like before, but it’s fun to visit his palace in the sky.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in.”
That voice, the one that used to shoot fear through my bones, causes contempt to fill me instead. My body still tenses, the cup wobbling in my hand. I hate that I give my weaknesses away.
My gaze darts beside me to the man I hoped I’d never see again. Troy walks around me, checking out my lower half. “Girl, you’re looking good. How’ve you been?”
I glance out the window once more to Cooper. The last thing I want him to do is see me talking to Troy. And that’s the last thing I want to do. I keep my mouth shut and start for the door.
The attendant gripes, “You need to pay for those cups.”
Digging into my pocket, I pull out a five-dollar bill that I earned in tips and return to set it on the counter with no intention of heading back to retrieve them next to where Troy is standing.
“What’s the big rush, Story?” Troy asks.
I push through the door and head for the car. But I hear the bell behind me chime once more. I squeeze my eyes closed as dread chills my veins. Just get in the car and go.
Cooper finishes and sees me over the pump. “No hot dog or drinks?”
“Changed my mind. Let’s try that new chicken place down the street.”
“Hey, Story . . .” Troy says, “come hang out.” My stomach does somersaults as Cooper’s gaze travels over my shoulder. Oh no. “Like old times,” Troy stupidly goes on. Please shut up. Please shut up. Please shut up.
Cooper hangs the handle on the pump. I move quicker, reaching him just as he shuts the fuel door on the car. “We need to go.”
“What the fuck is going on?” Cooper comes around the pump, but then his feet stop.
Looking back, Troy has stopped in the middle of the next lane. I’ve only heard about Cooper’s past, but I was fine with that. A vague memory resurfaces outside Cooper’s building that night last summer of Troy saying he knew the guy having the party but hadn’t seen him in a while.
A knife twists in my chest as I try to figure out the connection between them. I hate lies . . . How did I not piece this together sooner?
Seeing them staring not only confirms that they know each other but also that there’s bad blood between them. So why did Troy want to go to Cooper’s party if they hate each other? I have a feeling Troy was instigating a fight that night. Just like he is now.