Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 86199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
And for the last three years, that’s worked well.
There are plenty of groupies on this campus that are happy to have no-strings-attached sex on the regular.
Or blow me.
They never meant anything.
And they sure as shit didn’t rent space in my head.
All I can say is that Willow is different.
She’s so fucking perfect.
And if River doesn’t realize it, he doesn’t deserve her in his life.
If I have any say in the matter, he won’t.
Willow might not realize it yet, but she belongs to me.
Those thoughts only make me more anxious to see her. I grab my backpack from my locker and swing toward the door.
“Hey, where are you off to?”
I glance at Ryder as he drags a T-shirt over his head.
Things are still…weird between us.
What I don’t know is if he’s aware of it.
I’ve considered broaching the subject. But the possibility of coming off like a whiny bitch is what continues to hold me back.
When I remain silent, lost in the tangle of my thoughts, he pops a brow. “Mav?”
I hitch the backpack higher on my shoulder. “The library.”
He laces up his shoes. “Maybe I’ll come with you. I have a test to cram for, and Jules is out with Carina.”
With a frown, I digest that tidbit.
So if Juliette’s busy, he can make time for me?
I try to squash the irritation before it has the chance to multiply.
I can’t help but snap, “Sorry, already meeting up with someone. Maybe another time.”
“Oh? Anyone I know?”
“Nope.”
“Huh.” Oblivious to my curt tone, a gleam enters his eyes.
“See you back at the house,” I mutter, swinging around and stalking to the metal door before he can investigate the situation any further.
It’s a relief when I shove into the arena. The icy air stings my lungs as I draw it into my body. Strange as it sounds, it never fails to calm everything that vibrates within me. Ice rinks have always been like a second home to me. Some of my most cherished memories are of watching Dad play hockey or him teaching me how to skate.
When I’m looking for peace, this is the place where I’ve always found it. There’s something about the serenity of it.
Like when Mom was diagnosed with cancer and the chemo left her feeling like shit.
I shake off those painful memories as I shove through the doors and hit the sidewalk.
They’re not ones I like to dwell on.
There’s nothing worse than wondering if the most important person in your life will be around in six months.
Or a year from now.
Actually, that’s not true. The worst thing is coming to the realization that there’s not a damn thing you can do about it, that the situation is completely out of your hands.
That’s when feelings of helplessness and fear make sucking a full breath into your lungs impossible.
There aren’t many things that scare the shit out of me.
Losing someone I love is one of them.
I don’t ever want to be put through that kind of hell again.
The relief that rushes through me is palpable when the library comes into view and thoughts of Willow shove cancer from my brain. I slip inside the sprawling brick building before hustling up the staircase to the third floor. As I crest the landing, my gaze coasts over the area, searching for her blonde head.
Part of me wonders if she’ll ditch me and I’ll have to track her ass down.
At least this time, I’ll have more to go on. If that means knocking on River Thompson’s door and demanding to see her, that’s exactly what I’ll do.
Everything loosens inside me when I spot her tucked against the far wall. Her head is angled downward and there’s a pair of black glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. The punch of arousal is like a straight shot to my dick.
And here I didn’t think it was possible for her to look any sexier.
I was wrong.
Her long hair has been pulled into a messy bun at the top of her head. From this angle, I’m able to glimpse the graceful line of her neck. The sweatshirt she’s wearing showcases the delicate curve where it meets her shoulder. All I want to do is kiss my way down the long column of bared flesh.
It’s only been a couple days since I’ve seen her, but it feels more like years. I’m so damn hungry for the sight of her.
The taste of her.
There were a handful of times when I picked up my phone and considered shooting her a text.
In the end, I deleted the messages.
I’m trying to dial it down and not come on too strong.
It’s taking every ounce of willpower to hold myself back and not pounce on her.
When I have myself under control again, I close the distance between us before dropping down beside her.
“Hello, sunshine.”
Before she can respond to the greeting, I wrap my fingers around the side of her chair and drag it closer. Her eyes widen a second or two before my lips crash onto hers.