Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
“Really?” I grunt. “You think I have crazy psycho bitches trying to burn us alive? Nuh uh, this is on you. You’ve screwed over the wrong girl and now she’s fucking pissed. All I’ve got is girls hating me because they want you.”
“I hate to say it,” Jesse says. “She’s right. You probably have a whole list of bat-shit crazy chicks you don’t even remember screwing.”
“Fuck,” he grunts.
An idea strikes and I thrust the jacket into Nate’s chest. I feel my pockets and realize my phone isn’t here. I must have left it on the table in the cafeteria. “Shit,” I say to both of them. “I need a phone.”
Nate digs into his pocket and hands me his phone with his eyebrows pulled down. I type in his passcode and open his Facebook app to start searching for Sarah McKay’s page. She wants to be a photographer and generally posts photos of the parties she went to and with any luck, she was at that one.
“Who the fuck is Sarah McKay?” Jesse grunts as he looks over my shoulder.
“You’d probably know if your head wasn’t shoved so far up your ass all the time,” I tell him as Nate scoffs his agreement.
I get busy scrolling through the hundreds of pictures she has on here as Nate steps into me, taking advantage of this stolen moment. His hand claims my waist once again and I find myself leaning into him.
“Shit,” I gasp as I come across the photos of the boat shed lit up like the fourth of July. “It’s nice to see she was busy taking photos while we were dying,” I say, trying my hardest to cover my panic with humor, though if I know these boys, I know it didn’t work. But seeing these pictures and remembering what we went through… shit. I can’t even.
Nate grunts low in his throat as he protectively pulls me into his chest. “Keep scrolling,” he tells me, not wanting me to dwell on it, but too late. The image is burned into my mind.
I do as I’m told and keep going. I see photos of me and Brooke facing off against Nate, us girls dousing Maxen in crap, and everyone dancing. On closer inspection, there are shots of Jesse minding his own business, Nate watching me in the distance with nothing but desire in the depths of his dark eyes. There are all the boys, all the girls, and people I’ve never met before in my life.
“Wait,” Jesse calls. “Go back.” I scroll back up and Jesse tells me when to stop. “Look,” he says, leaning over and using his fingers to zoom in. “Is that the right jacket?”
I look up at the jacket in Nate’s hands before looking down at the girl in the picture. It certainly looks similar, but who the hell is it? The picture is kind of blurry zoomed in this much but the way Nate’s fingers are digging into my waist tells me he knows something.
“What is it?” I whisper, looking up at him.
He looks down at me with overwhelming regret and it nearly bowls me over. “It’s Ashley.”
“What?” I grunt in surprise as I reconsider the picture. It couldn’t be. “How can you tell?”
“You don’t want to know,” he warns.
“Nate,” I scold.
“Babe,” he sighs as though he can’t stand the sound of his own voice. “I was screwing her for four months. I know every inch of her fucking body.”
I try to pretend I didn’t hear that. “You’re right,” I murmur. “I didn’t want to hear that.”
Nate drops the jacket from his hands and grabs me. He pulls me in and rests his forehead against mine. “I’m so fucking sorry. This is all my fault,” he murmurs for only us to hear. “You nearly fucking died because of something I did.”
I bring my hands up between us and rest them against his racing heart. “Don’t,” I tell him. “It’s not your fault. It’s hers.”
“I’m going to make this right,” he vows.
I slide my hands from his chest up and around his neck. I hold on for dear life and risk tilting my chin. He doesn’t pull away from me so I brush my lips softly over his. In this moment, I don’t know if it’s me or him who needs the other more, but right now, I’m more than happy to keep pretending that the whole break up bullshit never happened. “No,” I tell him. “Let the police handle it.”
“So her parents can pay someone off and get her a slap on the wrist?” he scoffs in disgust. “I’m sorry, but no. I won’t be able to sleep until this is done.”
I pull back and search his eyes and for the first time in a long time, I don’t like what I see, in fact, it’s downright terrifying. I pull out of his arms and he reluctantly lets me go. I glance over to Jesse before focusing back on Nate. “What are you going to do?”