Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 129955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Carver’s stare hardens before it finally drops and he waves his hand toward the door. “You’re not a prisoner here, Winter. You’re free to go whenever you want.”
I walk over to him before stepping right in front of him and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you,” I whisper before meeting the other guys’ stares. “You honestly don’t need to worry about me. I’ll see you guys at school.”
With that, I hightail it out of here knowing damn well that every single one of them are frustrating enough to try and stop me.
I break out through the front door and my whole world brightens when I find my Ducati patiently waiting for me at the top of the drive. I hurry down the stairs until I hit the pavement and finally see my bike. I knew it was locked safely in Ember’s garage but a weird part of me thought that I might never see it again.
I grab hold of my helmet and find the key hidden safely inside, wondering which of the guys thought to bring this back to me before realizing that the engine is still warm. Considering that Carver and King looked as though they just fell right out of bed, it would have had to be either Grayson or Cruz early this morning, and judging by my few run-ins with Grayson, my guess would be Cruz.
A smile cuts across my face, and just as I go to pull my helmet over my head and get the show on the road, the massive front door peels open and a second later, I’m looking up at Grayson as he hurries down the stairs taking two at a time.
I wait patiently, my gut telling me that I should just get on my bike and leave, but after everything these guys have done for me over the past few days, I owe it to him not to be a raging bitch. “What’s up?” I ask, as he hits the pavement and starts making his way to me.
“I don’t like you,” he tells me, stopping just shy of the Ducati and keeping his harsh stare on me.
“Geez, thanks, but you didn’t need to come all the way out here to tell me that. You’ve made it perfectly clear since day one.”
He shakes his head. “No, I haven’t,” he says. “You confuse me. You’re different from the usual girls we get around here and I’ve been wary of you. That’s what you’ve been sensing, but over the past few days I’ve been watching you, and I see you getting closer to each of my friends, and I don’t fucking like it. Do you think they’re stupid? You’re sleeping in Carver’s bed, flirting with Cruz, then fucking King last night. They’re going to figure it out, and when they do, it’s going to end badly, and I can guarantee that it’ll be you it ends badly for.”
My mouth drops, having absolutely no idea what to say. “I …”
“Don’t,” he says, cutting me off before I make a dickhead of myself by stumbling over some bullshit explanation. “Either pick one, or don’t pick any at all, but if you hurt them … I’ll fucking end you. Got it?”
Grayson doesn’t wait for a response, just turns on his heel and stalks back up the stairs leaving me gaping after him and feeling like a complete ass. He’s right; I’ve been playing them all, but I don’t want to choose. King gives me what I need in a physical sense while Cruz feeds that other part of me, the part that needs a man to tell her how pretty she is and make her feel like the only girl in the world. Carver … Carver is different. He keeps all the monsters away, and for the first time in seventeen years, makes me feel like I don’t need to scream.
No, I don’t want to choose, but why should I? Why can’t a girl have it all?
It doesn’t matter anyway, it’s not like I’m coming back here and it’ll never work anyway. King, Carver, and Cruz all strike me as the alpha male, over-protective, and jealous types. I highly doubt that they’re down to share.
I put it to the back of my head and climb onto my bike. I have more important things to worry about this morning. I can deal with the guys later.
My engine roars to life and I fly down Carver’s long driveway to find the gate already open, and the second I can, I get the hell out of here, riding awkwardly in Carver’s borrowed clothes and no shoes.
My engine roars through the streets, and within the space of twenty minutes, my bike is pulling into the shitty concrete drive of my Ravenwood Heights home, though ‘home’ really isn’t what this place is. Home is the furthest from how I feel when I’m here.