Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24418 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24418 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Her good mood plummets, and she looks disappointed. “I can’t. I promised my uncle I’d have dinner with him.” I start to tell her it’s fine, but then her expression changes to mischievous. “But I can leave my bedroom window unlocked.”
I shake my head. “I’m not doing that.”
“Why?” She raises her chin in challenge. “Did you get what you wanted? Are we even now?”
“Not by a long shot.” The words come out sharper than I intended, but being this close to her has me on edge. “I need to stay away from you.”
“You say that, but then you stalk me.” Her smile is wicked, and she’s not wrong.
“This is the last time,” I tell her as I push away from the table and stand.
“See you tonight.” Charlotte winks at me before I turn to leave.
God help me, that woman could bring me to my fucking knees, and she knows it.
I’m barely out of the library before my cell buzzes with a text message. When I open it, I see she’s sent me a screenshot of a new contact. It’s my number under the word “Daddy.”
“Fuck,” I say and then there’s another photo that pops up before I can respond.
She put the camera up her skirt and took a picture of her wet panties.
Charlotte: Look what you did to me. I’m all sticky now.
My knees are weak as I force myself to put one foot in front of the other. I’ve got to get out of here before I throw her on top of the desk and fuck her in front of everyone.
Charlotte: Good thing I don’t sleep in panties.
Me: Lock your fucking windows. A monster might climb in and eat you.
Charlotte: Don’t tempt me with a good time.
Chapter Nine
CHARLIE
It’s impossible to sit still in class. All I can think about is what Shay did to me in the library, and now I yearn for more. If he's trying to keep me away from him, he's failing miserably. Now I want nothing more than to be near him again.
“You okay?” Tins asks.
“Yeah.” I glance over at her. “Why?” Am I acting in a way that suggests I'm not?
“You’re moving around a lot. Fidgeting, as my stepmom would call it. She says I do it all the time, and she’s not wrong. Sometimes when I’m excited but mostly when I’m nervous.”
"I am ready for this day to end." I check my phone to see how much longer we have when our teacher dismisses us. I’m instantly up and out of my seat.
“You want to hang out?” Tins asks as we exit the classroom.
“I can’t. I have dinner with my uncle tonight.”
“Oh, that sounds nice.” I can hear the touch of longing in her tone.
“He tries to squeeze them in here and there with how much he works.”
“My dad is always working too,” Tins mutters softly.
It doesn’t bother me that Uncle Callum works so much. He has his own life, and I have mine. But I can tell Tin doesn’t feel the same way about her father. It kind of breaks my heart for her.
She’s sweet, and not in an annoying way. It's endearing, and I don’t understand why her father wouldn't want to make time for her. My parents never gave me the time of day, but it didn’t make me sweet or want their attention. I gave them the same energy right back.
“We can hang out another night,” I tell her, and she perks up at that.
We walk to the parking lot, and I’m lost in thought when Tins points ahead of us.
“What’s on your car?” There’s a piece of paper stuffed into the windshield wiper of my Bronco. “There’s nothing on mine.” Tins’s Mini Cooper is parked right next to my vehicle.
For a brief moment, I experience a surge of excitement but then quickly dismiss it. There's no way Shay would leave a note on my car. That’s way too ballsy. As much fun as I’m having with him, I don’t actually want to get him into trouble. There’s a thrill that goes along with what we’re doing.
“Probably someone fucking with me,” I say and grab the piece of paper off my windshield.
“Did you ever find out who flooded your locker?”
“Doesn’t matter.” Tins is the type of person to worry over it, but I know who it is; I just can’t prove it. I may not know the exact person who did the deed, but I know who’s behind it. I open the note to see the word whore written in giant letters with eyes drawn on it like they are watching me.
“How original,” I say and crumple the note. Tins rolls her eyes, and I shove the trash into my bag. “I’m going to head out.”
“All right, text you later.” Tins hops into her Mini Cooper as I slide into my own car and take off toward home.