Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“Garrett,” he greets her with a jerk of his chin. Polite, but not overly enthusiastic. Interesting. Everyone wants Halston. “So, you still coming tonight?” he asks, rocking back on the heels of his worn Chucks.
“I think Halston’s going to take me,” I say, bumping her shoulder with mine.
“Actually,” she pipes up. “I can’t make it. I have this thing.”
“What thing?” She doesn’t have a thing.
“You know.” Her eyes widen, wanting me to play along. “Anyway, you should have Garrett here take you.”
Garrett scrapes his teeth along his lip, eyebrows raised. “You have my number. Let me know if you want me to pick you up.”
I nod, and he walks away, probably feeling uncomfortable after that painfully obvious lie.
“Real smooth.”
Halston laughs, throwing her head back. “He’s hot. Have fun on your date.”
“It’s not a date!” I whisper-shout, not wanting to chance him still being in earshot. I stand, slinging my backpack over my shoulder.
“Does he know that?”
“Yes.” I think.
I dig through my suitcase in search of a clean shirt, flinging clothes behind me. Most of my stuff is still in my grandparents’ garage, and I make a mental note to do some laundry soon. I pull out a white NOFX tee and bring it to my nose, making sure it passes the sniff test. Bingo. I shrug it on over my head, then check myself out in the bathroom mirror. My shirt falls below the hem of my black shorts. Black tights. Burgundy Docs. Good enough. This isn’t a date, after all. It’s a show with a friend at what is most likely going to be a crammed, dirty, smelly venue.
I toss my wavy hair up into a high ponytail, swipe a few strokes of mascara onto my lashes, and I’m done. I hear the front door slam downstairs and I pause, listening. Both Dare and Lo are at work, and it being Friday night, I don’t expect either one of them to be home this early. I pocket my phone and grab my small black purse, fixing the strap across my chest. I scoop my dad’s jacket off the bed and tie it around my waist before heading down the stairs. Once I’m near the bottom, I peek around the corner, attempting to see who’s here.
Movement by the fridge catches my eye, and then it slams shut, revealing Jesse. Why does he have to be so obnoxiously attractive? Backwards hat. White tee. Gray sweats. Don’t look at his crotch. Do not look at his crotch.
“Are you looking at my dick?”
I jerk my eyes away at the sound of his voice. “What? No.”
Jesse smirks, rounding the counter and heading for the couch. “Wild Friday night?” I ask, eyeing his setup. There are bags of chips, sodas, beers, and… Are those Dum-Dums laid out across the coffee table? Netflix is pulled up on the flat screen.
“Didn’t feel like going out.” He shrugs, plopping down onto the couch, legs spread wide. I sit on the arm of the couch, reaching forward to steal a sucker. I don’t waste any time unwrapping it and taking a lick. Jesse watches my mouth intently and I try not to squirm under his attention.
“What are you watching?” I ask, if only to break the silence. Jesse clears his throat and adjusts his sweatpants, making no attempt to hide the bulge there. Why do my eyes keep wandering toward his crotch? I don’t particularly like dicks. I haven’t even seen very many of them in person. It’s not like I’m a connoisseur.
“Not sure yet. You pick.”
Me? Does he want me to watch a movie with him?
The doorbell rings, not giving me a chance to answer. I set my sucker on the wrapper on top of the table while Jesse stands, beer in hand, and makes his way for the door. Garrett. I sent him Lo’s address after I got home, letting him know I’d need a ride after all.
Jesse swings the door open, revealing a slightly confused-looking Garrett. “I’m here to pick up Allison,” Garrett says, leaning back to check the number on the house, like maybe he got the wrong address.
“Hey,” I say, stepping into view. Once he sees me, his mouth quirks up into that mischievous grin of his as his eyes scan my body. “Nice choice,” he says, pointing toward my shirt.
Before I can respond, Jesse shuts the door in his face. I jump back, shooting him a glare before I open the door again. “I’ll be out in a second,” I explain, holding up my finger. “I’m just going to grab my stuff.”
He nods, luckily not appearing to be too offended, heading for the truck parked in front of the curb.
“What the hell was that?” I ask Jesse.
“He bored me.”
“So you slammed the door in his face? Instead of walking away? Since, you know, he’s my guest and all.”