Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 65683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
No dad should ever make his son question that.
In my existence, the only person who had ever seen me and stood by my side was the one who walked away. My dad said once you were used to abandonment, it was in your nature to abandon others.
She left me.
My dad deceived me.
And I was still dealing with collateral damage.
I finally made it to the top of the fourth level and walked over to where the sign said ancient history. Huh, poetic or just a really bad reminder? Tru stood with her back facing me at the very end of one of the dark aisles. Actually, why was it so dark up there? It was almost serene. Lights flickered on one side while the ones where she stood were completely out.
Her bag was set aside by the shelves.
Frowning, I slowly approached her. “Are we switching study spots?”
She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them. “I know you.”
I slowly nodded my head. “Yes, I’m very aware that you know me. You know a lot. What’s the point? Or are we just trying to dodge people watching us?”
“You won’t focus the rest of the day, not on tutoring or math. You always need a singular focus. It’s why you always wore a hairband on your wrist. When I first met you, I thought it was because you literally had so many hookups you actually brought a ponytail holder for the end of the night when the girls either puked their guts out in the toilet and you didn’t want to hold their hair or so they could tie it back when you had sex.”
“Nice.” I rolled my eyes.
“But…” She took a deep breath, and the hum from the flickering lights filled the space around us. She slowly backed away from me, deeper into the darkness. “It was so you could focus. You’d snap it on your wrist when you were reading. You’d do the same when practicing with friends, and when you were with your dad, you broke multiple rubber bands on your wrist to the point that you had a mark most days.”
She’d noticed all of that? “So?”
“For one minute, I’ll be your rubber band, and then I want you to focus on the worksheet and on practice. Alright? I’m not doing this because I feel sorry for you. I’m doing it for my own anxiety. I can’t sit next to you or exist next to you when I feel the darkness. You went to a dark place. I felt it.”
She always did see through my emotions, and I sometimes hated her for it. “I pulled back.”
“You’re still there,” she said gently.
“You know what? This is bullshit. Whatever voodoo you think you’re going to do to calm me down or make me stop thinking about my fucked-up life isn’t going to fucking—”
She jerked me by the shirt. I stumbled against her so hard that we slammed backward against the wall, blanketed in utter darkness and the musty smell of old books.
“Don’t think,” she whispered. The kiss was slow and purposeful. It was both heat and release at the same time. My lips parted briefly before I clutched her by the face and tasted her. My only focus was her. Not my dad. Not football. Not the darkness.
It was her.
Her kiss gave me freedom.
And focus.
Her hands tangled in my hair while I lifted her into my arms and pressed her against the wall. Our mouths collided only to pull back and work together. The kiss was a reminder and a release, a cosmic demonstration of the way their bodies would always remember one another. Damning and forgiving all at once. The warmth of her breath mingled with mine, the way the silence was suddenly full of our mouths moving across one another’s.
Abruptly, she pulled back, our foreheads touching briefly before I gently set her back on her feet. “Better?”
Better and worse. How could I possibly answer that?
She pressed a hand to my chest, and my heart raced beneath the heat of her palm. “Focus. Get through today. And then get through tomorrow. Screw your dad, Vaughan. Also, this never happened. You’re still my enemy, and we won’t ever be friends.”
I cracked a smile. “You’re the devil of sexual torment. You understand that, right?”
She smirked and walked past me. “Hey, at least you aren’t thinking bad things anymore.”
“Oh, Cinderella, I’m thinking all of the bad things right now, and none of them involve you wearing any clothes.”
She picked up her bag and looked over her shoulder with a coy smile. “See? I win again. I have to admit it feels good. Oh, and I’d like…” She pointed at my dick. “Take care of that. It’s going to be distracting to the students. Then again, if they’re studying anatomy, it might be helpful.”
I grabbed a book and covered my dick, only to see her burst out laughing. “That’s a classic.”