Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 123212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
His stare tightens until he finally releases the bottle. “Whatever,” he snaps, spinning around and walking back out of the bathroom. “Keep the fucking scotch if it means that much to you. I don’t care anyway.”
Well, that’s the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard.
I finish pouring the alcohol down the sink and when I turn around, I find him sitting on the edge of the bed, watching me as though he’s confused about something. I place the empty glass bottle down on the vanity and find myself walking out of the bathroom and crossing his room.
I step up to him, putting myself between his open knees. “It’s okay to hurt,” I whisper, placing my hands upon his strong bare shoulders. “It’s okay to be confused and it’s okay to want to hate him.”
As if on instinct, Colton’s hands find my waist and he pulls me in a step. “I don’t like you seeing me like this,” he murmurs and although he’s addressing me, it’s almost like he’s talking to himself. “You’re right, I feel fucking weak. I’m pathetic. I should be stronger. It’s you, you’re making me weak.”
He pushes me away and flies to his feet in front of me. “You make me weak,” he repeats. “You’re like a fucking leech sucking all the strength out of me. You’re going to ruin me.”
I swallow back, refusing to show how his words hurt while also struggling to understand why they do. They shouldn’t. For a month, I've let his words sail off me like water off a duck’s back but lately, they’ve been sticking like glue.
“You know that’s not true,” I say, holding back the tears and struggling to get the words past the lump in my throat. “What happened to everything you said to me yesterday morning? Does that just not matter anymore? What about the party?”
Colton steps into me, his stare boring down on my soul. I watch as his red-rimmed eyes blaze with fire before a smirk lifts the corner of his lips. “Fucking weak.”
His bedroom door flies open and one of his twin sisters comes barging through with a dress in her hand. Our heads both whip toward her and as she takes me in, fury tears through her eyes. “YOU,” she yells, pointing a finger and storming through the room. “You little bitch. You’re a thief.”
Say what?
I fall back a step, but she doesn’t stop until she’s standing in my exact spot, her brother right beside her. “You stole my fucking dress.”
“What?” I grunt as Colton stares between us. “I didn’t steal anything.”
“My fucking dress,” she demands, holding the black gown up that I’d worn to the black and white party, the very one that has been dry-cleaned, bagged, and hung on the left side of her closet to show that it’s been handled with care. “I saw the fucking pictures. You had no right to enter my personal space and take whatever the hell you wanted. That’s a disgusting violation of my personal property. Now I have to throw it out. Who knows what kind of diseases you people carry.”
“You people?” I demand, my eyes widening.
“Classless scabs,” she says, pronouncing every syllable. “Trash who comes in here looking for any way to get ahead in life, but guess what? You’re done. You and your mother. You’re both out of here. You won’t get away with this.”
“Excuse me?” I demand, stepping into her and watching as her eyes bug out of her head, proving that she’s all words and no action. Hell, she’s probably the type to cry over a broken nail. “Your precious dress is in your fucking hand. You can hardly claim that I stole it, and besides, your father was the one who told me I could borrow it. You don’t have a fucking leg to stand on.”
She throws the gown down on the ground and straightens her shoulder. “You don’t want to start with me. I can guarantee that you’ll lose.”
“Cora,” Colton snaps. “That’s enough.”
I grin, ignoring Colton’s warning, the same way he’s done to me a million times before. Besides, technically it was her he was warning, he didn’t tell me to stop. “You think you have what it takes to win against me?” I laugh. “I get it, you have money bags at your beck and call, but apart from that, you’ve got nothing, honey. You’re just a bitch in Prada. All fucking talk.”
Cora’s eyes narrow at me and just when I think she’s about to explode, she turns on her brother. “Do something,” she squeals. “How can you just stand there and let her talk to me like that? I want her fired and out of the pool house by midnight.”
“No.”
“No?” she rears back, unable to believe what she’s hearing.
“You heard me. Get the fuck out.”
My eyes bug out of my head. Did Colton just tell his little princess sister to get the fuck out? No way. If I knew shit was going to go down tonight, I would have brought a box of popcorn to help me enjoy the night.