Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 121578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
I jog up the stairs, yanking off my riding gloves, and wrinkle my nose at the thick, skunky scent of weed clinging to the hallway. My clubhouse usually reeks about the same, but we’re not spending thousands on tuition while we’re getting baked.
Her apartment door swings open as I approach and an excited smile spreads over Jezzie’s face.
“Jensen!” she squeals and rushes into the hallway. I barely have time to brace myself before she’s throwing her arms around my neck and squeezing tight.
Hey, look at that. She’s happy to see me.
“Hey, kiddo.” I return the hug. Coconut and pineapple shampoo or perfume clings to her hair, fresh and sweet—at least it’s not weed. “How’ve you been?”
“Good.” She releases me, bouncing on her toes a few times, then backs up into the apartment. “Come in. Come in. How was the ride?”
“Not too bad.”
She eyes my black leather cut. “You wore your colors?”
“I rode here. Why? Worried I’ll embarrass you in front of your college friends?”
Her smile falters. “No. I worry about you since you’re riding alone.”
“I told you this is a…gray area between us and another club. We’re friends with them. It’s fine.”
She nods quickly but her forehead remains wrinkled. Is she really worried about my safety, or is she worried her fancy college friends will find out she has a dirty biker brother? The one who funds her lifestyle, but whatever.
“You want something to drink?” she asks, already moving toward the small kitchen. “It was a long trip.”
“Sure.” I walk up to the counter dividing the living room from the kitchen.
“Is iced tea okay?” she asks.
“That’s fine.”
She pulls a glass pitcher out of the fridge and two glasses from a cabinet and stands facing me on the other side of the counter. She pours and slides a glass my way.
I take a quick sip, wincing at the bitterness. “Thanks.”
“So, Margot didn’t come with you?” she asks, bringing her glass to her lips but keeping her eyes on me.
“Nah, she’s working.”
“I like her.” Jezzie sets her glass on the counter with a soft thud and pins me with a pointed look. “She’s really sweet.”
“She is,” I agree.
“She seems very…sensitive. Thoughtful.” She tilts her head, her face screwing into a frown. “You’re not going to break her heart, are you?”
“I hope not.” I lift an eyebrow. “You done with the interrogation?”
“Not even close.” She snorts with laughter. “You’ve never had a real girlfriend that I know of.”
How awful that my little sister knows me that well. “No one worth introducing to you.” No need to explain my former love ‘em and leave ‘em approach to women with my little sister, for fuck’s sake. “Enough about me. What’s going on with you?”
“Welllll.” She draws out the word to a playful degree. “I found a job.”
My shoulders stiffen with annoyance. How many times are we going to have this argument? “You’re supposed to be focusing on school. I thought you were taking classes over the summer?”
“I am. But only two. It’s not a lot of hours.” Her forehead scrunches as she casts a guilty glance around the apartment. “Not enough to cover my rent, but I’ll pay for my utilities or something.”
“Jezzie,” I sigh, pressing the heel of my hand against my chest. “Just put it in a savings account…so you’ll have a deposit for an apartment or whatever after graduation when you’re on your own.” As if I won’t still help her out.
Her eyes widen and she claps her hands together. “So you’ll let me take the job?” she asks.
“Let you? How am I supposed to stop you when I’m like two hours away?” I let out a frustrated snort. “Wait, tell me what the job is, first.”
“Oh, it’s waitressing in this tiny pizza place nearby. My friend Erin works there. Her uncle owns it. They need someone to help out part-time. It’s close enough to walk there.”
“Yeah, how late you going to be walking home?”
“Erin will give me a ride.”
“All right.” I pick up my glass and drain the rest of the iced tea. “Let’s go.”
Her gaze narrows as she eyes me with suspicion. “Go where?”
“See the place.” I pat my stomach. “I could eat a slice or two. I’m starving.”
“Jensen, no! You’re not going to terrorize my friend’s uncle.”
“I’ll be nice.” I push away from the counter and walk toward the door. “Since you told me about it, you obviously want my opinion. Let’s go.”
“Ugh. Let me grab a sweatshirt.”
It could be another ten minutes of her searching through her closet and the walls of the apartment are already closing in on me. “I’ll meet you outside.”
Her grumbling answer gets muffled as I close the door and jog down the stairs.
Outside, I slip on my sunglasses and take a slow glance around the area. Well-kept buildings, small, niche shops. A mix of college kids and locals.