Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Eric Damonella walks by, still wearing the useless cast I subjected him to. He casts me a quick, nervous glance.
“Hey, man,” I say, willing to be benevolent now that Lotta’s mine.
He stops, relief obvious in his shoulders. “Hey.”
“I’m not gonna apologize because I’m not sorry, but we’re cool. So long as you never look at or speak about my mate again.”
His eyes bulge. “Your mate?”
I nod, satisfaction ricocheting through my chest. “You heard me. Make sure everyone knows it. Anyone disrespects her, they die.”
He falls backward a step. “You got it, Asher. No problem.”
I grab my books for first period, and then the world goes slow-mo. A chica-bow-wow song plays in my head, and I stop to drink in the sight of my gorgeous mate walking down the hall, tossing her raven black hair over her shoulder and giving me a secret look.
Fuck. Me.
My life could not get any better.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Lotta
Asher smirks at me from his customary seat in the back row.
My heart pounds with excitement every time he enters. I can feel the blast of love from him. His attention remains riveted to my face or body the entire lesson, even when he should be working. He listens now when I lecture–to every word. He won’t let anyone speak over me or talk back to me.
I made Asher glue the necklace back on his self-portrait, and I keep it propped in the window beside my desk, so I can look at it all day long.
We make a game out of sneaking around at school. Asher’s put me on my hands and knees on this desk. He’s claimed me in the supply closet. We’ve returned to the staff bathroom a few times. Right now he’s giving me a tiny smile. One that implies all the dirty things he’s going to do to me later.
Tonight, I’m going to show him how much he means not just to me, but to everyone in this pack.
I finish up my lecture and give them the assignment for the next project. “Any questions? No? All right. Have a good weekend. I will see you Monday.”
The bell rings and students file out. Asher hangs back.
“Did you have a question, Asher?” I use my prim teacher voice.
It gets Asher hard. He adjusts himself as he stands and saunters up to me. “I have something to show you, Ms. James.” He pulls an envelope from his book and drops it on my desk. It’s addressed to me but with his home address.
The return address is Swan Hotel Corporation.
“What is this?” I flip it over and open the flap. Inside I find a letter.
Dear Ms. James,
Congratulations! We have selected you as the recipient of our prestigious Swan Art Award and artist-in-residence program. As you know, during the six-month residency, the ten pieces of artwork you submitted will hang in the lobby of our Los Angeles headquarters. In exchange, you will receive a stipend of twenty-five thousand dollars, and a fully furnished apartment and studio to continue creating work.
Enclosed are the details. To accept our award, please fill out the paperwork and return to us no later than November 15th.
We look forward to making arrangements to install you and your art next fall.
Best Regards,
Bea Daily
Director, Swan Art Award Program
My hand trembles. “What is this?” I repeat, dazed.
“I’ve been entering your artwork to contests. Lauren Sterling connected me with an art gallery owner who said the way to gain recognition was to submit to these kinds of things. She gave me a list, and I’ve been sending photos and descriptions of your work everywhere.”
My eyes fill with tears. “What? Since when?”
“Since the meadow. When we realized your art was prophetic. I knew it was important to try to support you in this, especially since your family hasn’t.”
“Asher.” I throw my arms around him and squeeze him tight. “This is incredible. I can’t believe it.”
He grins. “You’re happy.”
“Is there any doubt?”
“I called the coach at UCLA and said they were my top choice. I just figured it doesn’t hurt to let them know I’m interested. Some ballers are playing hard ball with them to get more. I just want a spot.” He shrugs. “I’m pretty sure they’ll find me money and a spot.”
“Incredible!”
“Yep. Our future–away from here–is right around the corner.”
I shake my head. “I don’t even care about moving anymore. But yes. And Wolf Ridge will be here if we want to come back.”
“Yeah. Good. My mom is gonna want to hold our pups.”
I laugh. I notice my instinct to shut him down on pups, since I’ve been doing it forever with my mom, but then it morphs into something different.
Oh.
I definitely do want pups. I want to see Asher as a dad. I want to create a family with him. And yes, I might want to move back here. But after we’ve gone out to conquer the world.