Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 93312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
“So, are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
He ignores me, pushing the button that starts the engine, and it roars to life, vibrating my seat. “Freeway or scenic route?”
“Scenic route,” I say without hesitation, clicking my seatbelt into place. The interstate would be faster, wherever we’re going, but I love the way Thayer drives this thing on back roads. And let’s be honest, I’m in no hurry.
“That’s my girl,” he says, pulling his lip rings between his teeth. The comment is offhanded, but my stupid, girly insides turn to mush anyway.
He lays on the gas, driving out of the driveway and then speeding down the long, winding road that connects Heartbreak Hill to town. A few minutes in, Thayer’s hand slides between my legs, gripping the inside of my thigh. That little gesture makes me feel unexpectedly emotional. Memories of Thayer driving us around aimlessly for hours with one hand on the wheel and the other on my thigh pop into my mind, making me miss how it used to be. We thought things were complicated back then when our only worry was being found out. What I’d give to go back to the way we were, to have just one more day of all of us together.
I don’t know how much time passes—at least an hour—maybe more, when I finally realize where we’re going.
“Amherst?” I look over at him, raising a brow. I know he goes to school here—sometimes, anyway—I just don’t know why he brought me here.
“You hungry?” He pulls into a parking space in front of a café with a black awning that reads The Black Sheep Deli & Bakery.
“Starved.” Confused, but starved. He cuts the engine and we both get out, walking up to the café. Thayer opens the door and I head in first, taking in the cases of pastries and baked goods. Above those are blackboard menus with the day’s specials written in neon colors.
“Have you ever been here?” I ask, scanning the menu.
“Where the hell have you been hiding?” some guy with an apron asks behind us, slapping Thayer on the shoulder. I guess that answers my question.
“Back home,” he says, not offering more of an explanation than that. The man glances at me, folding his tattooed arms over his chest before sending Thayer a knowing look.
“Hey, Home. Nice to meet you. I’m Brax.” He holds out his hand and I shake it while Thayer rolls his eyes.
“I’m Shayne.”
“You guys hungry? What are you having?” he asks Thayer. “Turkey club and a coffee?” That’s oddly specific. He must come here a lot if they know his order by heart.
Thayer looks to me. “What do you want?”
“That sounds good to me.”
“Make that two. With a side of ranch and a pink lemonade for her.”
“Got it,” Brax says, walking behind the counter.
I bite my cheek to hide an amused smile as we slide into a booth, Thayer on one side, me on the other.
“Don’t look at me like that. So I remembered what you like to drink. Big deal.”
And the fact that I like to dip my sandwiches in ranch. But I let it slide. “So, you brought me almost two hours away for sandwiches?”
Thayer shoves a hand through his hair, seeming uncomfortable, and that’s when it hits me. Oh my God. Is Thayer trying to take me on a date? “Thought you might like to go somewhere we could let our guard down.”
“It’s perfect,” I assure him. And it is. It’s so fucking perfect, because this right here is all I’ve ever wanted. To go somewhere and just be without everyone’s eyes on us, picking apart our every move.
Our food comes quickly, and I don’t waste any time digging in. We eat in silence, and even though it feels good to be with Thayer, my guilty conscience gnaws at me. I still haven’t brought up Christian. Or meeting with my brother. Not that I’m doing anything wrong by talking to my own brother, but Grey is a point of contention between Thayer and me.
“I saw Grey,” I say, fidgeting with the tip of my straw. Thayer tenses, pushing his empty plate to the center of the table.
“Yeah?”
I nod. “He wouldn’t take my calls, so I showed up at his dorm.” I lean forward, my elbows resting on top of the table. “He admitted to having an argument with Danny, but he swears he had nothing to do with it.”
“Well, what a relief,” he says, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Now I can sleep at night. Do you know many people who would confess to murder, Shayne?”
I flinch at the word murder.
“I think…” I hesitate, feeling conflicted as Thayer waits in silence for me to spit it out. “I think he’s hiding something from me.”
I wait for him to spit out another sarcastic remark at the very least. What I don’t expect is for him to reach into his back pocket to pull out his wallet and throw a fifty down onto the table.