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)
I suck in a slow, steady breath, careful not to draw attention. Attempting subtlety, I shift my shoulder blades and my posture, trying to knock his hand away from me.
All that does is make him move his hand down my back.
His fingers move to my bra strap and he traces it down to the strip of fabric across my back. I try moving in different ways to get his hand off me without alerting our parents to what he’s doing, but the bastard is shameless and gets his fingers underneath the clasp.
Before he can unhook it, I put the bowl on his lap and abruptly stand. “I just realized we didn’t get Landon a drink. You seem thirsty,” I say.
He smirks. “Do I? What a good girl you are, paying such close attention to my needs. How about a nice, cold glass of lemonade?”
He needs something cold, all right—maybe a shower.
“There’s none in the fridge,” I state since I just went to get some for dinner and noticed the pitcher was gone.
“Then make me some.”
My hands curl into fists at my sides, but I can feel my mom about to jump in and I don’t want her to. He already doesn’t like her without a single good reason. It’s not that big of a deal, just, you know, horrifying for my pride.
To take the sting out of it, I glance at Mom and Hayden. “Lemonade sounds good, actually. Anyone else want some?”
Hayden is watching his son warily. “Parker isn’t your maid, Landon. How about some manners?”
He has weaponized the word please at this point, so I actually prefer never to hear him say it again. I expect him to since he’s taunted me with it before, but when Landon looks back at me, he says, “Aw, shit. I wouldn’t want to have bad manners. Want me to come to the kitchen with you and give you a hand?”
“No,” I say flatly. “I think I can handle making lemonade on my own.” My gaze flickers to Mom and Hayden. “I’ll just be a minute.”
While I’m whipping up a fresh pitcher of lemonade, I text Hannah to vent about Landon thinking I’m his personal Cinderella. I also keep an eye out to make sure he doesn’t really come in here. He’d give me a hand, all right, but I don’t think that hand would be anywhere I want it.
“Ugh, that sucks, I’m sorry,” she texts back sympathetically.
“He showed up late and he has been drinking. He has no lack of audacity, and I’m kind of worried about it.”
“As a responsible friend, I have to say this. Maybe you should tell your mom about what happened at the party.”
I dismiss her suggestion without even considering it. “I can’t do that. But it would make me feel better if I didn’t have to worry about him slipping into my bedroom once this movie is over and our parents go to bed. Any chance you can sleep over since there’s no school tomorrow?”
It takes her a minute to respond, so I grab two glasses out of the top cupboard.
Finally, she texts back, “I might be able to, but not until I’m done with my chores. And if I won’t be here in the morning to make them breakfast, I’ll need to make something tonight before I leave. Muffins or egg cups or something.”
“Well, that’s okay. We’ve just started The Departed anyway, so you have plenty of time.”
I head back to the living room with my phone tucked in my pocket and two glasses of lemonade. I’m tempted to sit down on the empty couch, but I can see how anxious Mom is and I don’t want her to think I’m uncomfortable just because I am.
When I sit down, I sit on the same couch Landon is on, but I sit a couple of cushions away so he can’t keep touching me.
“Everyone good now?” Hayden asks.
Landon takes a sip of his lemonade. “Mm. Delicious.” Then, just to taunt me, he says, “Thank you, Parker.”
Just the sound of his voice saying something normal sets me on edge, so before we get into the movie, I seek to assure myself there will be sanctuary at the end of all this.
I draw out my phone and ask Mom, “Is it okay if Hannah comes over to spend the night after we watch the movie?”
“Oh. Well, sure, but it will be pretty late by then. This movie is two and a half hours long.”
Of course it is.
“I know,” I say, since it doesn’t matter for my purposes. “She hasn’t been sleeping well crammed on a twin bed up in the attic, and I haven’t shown her my room here yet. I thought it would be nice to have her over tonight since there’s no school tomorrow and she can sleep in, even if she only gets here in time to sleep.”