Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 155405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 777(@200wpm)___ 622(@250wpm)___ 518(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 777(@200wpm)___ 622(@250wpm)___ 518(@300wpm)
Lower the stakes, Parker.
There’s no need to psych myself out. It’s just a car ride. With Landon Atwater. What could possibly go wrong?
I crack a faint smile at my own joke, but it helps bring me back down and level out the giddiness as I approach the passenger side of his car.
“Hey,” he says when I open the door.
“Hey,” I say back, pushing my hair back over my shoulder and sliding into the seat.
“How was your meeting?”
“Great. The book drive did okay even though we threw it together last minute, so we packed up the books and went over everything pertaining to that. Anae took black and white pictures to post online as if we’re doing God’s work,” I say with a roll of my eyes. “It’s kind of an uninspired group this year; they don’t plan to really start on any side projects until the next meeting, but we are helping organize Fright Fest next month, so we’ll start working on that. I don’t know, the load feels light to me. I may dig around and come up with something else to put on the docket.”
Landon smirks. “You always have to be doing something extra, don’t you?”
I shrug. “I like to keep busy.” Glancing over at him, I ask, “What about you?”
He cocks a dark eyebrow. “What about me?”
“You don’t play football anymore. Swim team is in the off season. Ever think about joining any clubs?”
“Nah, I’m not much of a joiner.”
I nod. “I get that. But colleges like to see extracurriculars on your application. Plus, clubs can help you find things you’re genuinely interested in and passionate about.”
“And you’re passionate about helping people.”
I shrug. “Yeah. What are you passionate about?”
“Not helping people,” he says dryly.
I shoot him a look. “Hilarious. Maybe you should join comedy club.”
“Oh yeah, I’m a riot.”
“I’m serious,” I say, lightly shoving his arm.
He shakes his head. “So am I. I’m not into clubs. It’s bad enough I have to do 18 hours of community service this year like I’m some kind of criminal.”
“You are kind of a criminal,” I remind him. “I’m starting on my community service hours next week. I’m volunteering at a pet shelter. You should come with me.”
“I suppose animals are better than people.”
I nod my agreement. “Immensely better. And the company wouldn’t be too bad, either.”
He cracks a smile, glancing my way. “I might be okay with the company.”
That shouldn’t make my tummy flutter, but it does. Unable to hold his gaze, I shift mine to look out at the road as he drives. “Where are we going, anyway?”
“You’ll see.”
And soon, I do.
I didn’t expect him to bring me to the beach.
It doesn’t appear to be an impulsive decision, though, as he grabs an oversized beach towel and a little blue cooler out of the trunk. A gentle breeze blows my hair and I turn toward the ocean, breathing in so I can catch the salty scent.
I love the ocean.
I wasn’t sure he would given his history, plus the fact that we live in a mansion that boasts beautiful ocean views and he chose a room without one.
We walk down closer to the shoreline and Landon puts down the beach towel. He drops down and gets comfortable, then he looks up at me and pats the empty spot beside him.
Cracking a smile, I tuck my hair behind my ear, then settle in on the beach towel.
Landon unzips the little soft-shell cooler he brought and takes out a container of grapes with a container full of sliced cheese stacked on top of it. He opens both and puts them between us, then he grabs a pack of crackers out of the side pocket.
“A cheese board,” I say, delighted.
“Kinda. Figured you’d want a snack.”
“You know me so well,” I joke, reaching for the crackers.
He’s in a better mood than I’m used to, so I’m still not entirely sure what to do with it. He reaches in the cooler and draws out a clear capped bottle. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think it’s the sunset lemonade I like from the club.
Alarm takes hold when I consider that it could be. I hope he didn’t go there without me. I don’t even think he should be welcome there after what he pulled before, but the prospect of him encountering Javi with no one around to keep an eye on him… it’s not my favorite thing to imagine.
When he passes me the drink, I think about asking, but I don’t want to invite an argument right now. “Thanks,” I say instead, giving it a little swirl, then uncapping it so I can take a sip.
It is the sunset lemonade. Or maybe something close. It tastes a bit different, but mostly I can still taste the flavored lemonade and splash of grenadine I enjoy at the club. “This is really good,” I say, taking another sip.