Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 99766 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99766 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Fuck these fuckers.
“What?” I demand.
“She’s a kid,” Hollis bites out.
Roan nods, his eyes narrowed.
“Fuck all of y’all,” I snarl, shaking my head. “It’s not like that and you fucking know it.”
Cal hits the button on his machine and hops off. “Cut him some slack. Even if he did want into that psycho’s pants, do you think she’d actually let him?”
Jordy laughs, earning scowls from Hollis and Roan.
“What?” Jordy says. “Cal’s right. I’m pretty sure Penny is asexual or whatever the fuck it is when you don’t care about anyone or anything.”
“It’s called being a bitch,” Cal offers unhelpfully.
“Shut up,” I warn, pinning him with a glare. “Penny’s not a bitch.”
Roan and Hollis chuckle.
“She kind of is,” Roan says.
“You’re a bitch,” I bite out, shoving Roan’s shoulder. “You’re all bitches.”
They all crack up, amused at my irritation.
“All right,” Cal says, smacking me on the back. “Get out of here. I’ll see you at home later.”
I flip the guys my middle finger, earning more laughter. “Idiots.”
“You love us,” Roan calls out.
Smirking, I head to the showers. I’m in and out quickly. Once I’m dressed, I head out of the gym, grateful to see Penny is already waiting in her obnoxious orange Jeep. I fling open the door, toss my bag into the back, and then climb into the passenger seat. I expect to be assaulted by teeny-bopper music, but instead, I notice the stereo is turned off. I’m thankful because I feel the slight teasing of a migraine coming on.
“What’s up?” I say in greeting, reaching forward to turn the vents on me since it’s cold as fuck outside.
“The sky.” She lifts a brow at me. “What’s wrong?”
I frown, shrugging. “Headache.”
“You have medicine for it?”
“In my bag.”
She thumps me in the arm. “So take it.”
“I have to eat first,” I grumble, rubbing the sore spot. “I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t need you wussing out on me,” she says as she peels out, fishtailing in the parking lot. “We’ll grab food and then shake down that fucker.”
“Hey, chill,” I grunt out. “You said you had an address. You didn’t say shit about shaking down Jack. What the fuck does that even mean anyway? Shaking down?”
“You let me do the talking. You can be the muscle. It means we get in his face and demand answers. I looked the dude up on social media. He’s like Jace and Dad’s age minus the muscle plus a slight beer belly. We can take him.”
“I’m not looking to get my ass arrested, Penny.”
“Don’t be dramatic.” She takes a turn sharply, nearly sending me flying into her seat.
“Who taught you how to drive?” I snap. “Cal?”
“Stop talking.”
This girl is so fucking infuriating sometimes. My head hurts and she’s pissing me off. I scowl, glaring out the window as I hold on for dear life. Finally, she whips into a fast food parking lot, headed for the drive-through.
“Want to go inside? Make a plan first?” I ask, staring at her profile.
She winces, shaking her head hard enough her blond ponytail swishes from side to side. “Nope. We can eat in the car.” She cuts her blazing blue eyes my way. “So long as you don’t smack when you chew.” Disgust has her lip curling up.
“You’re a strange one, English.”
My words make her frown, which makes me wish I could reel them back in. Unfortunately, when my head fucking hurts, it’s harder to be nice. I choose silence instead. We reach the intercom and before I can open my mouth to tell her what I want, she orders for me.
This goddamn girl…
It’s then I realize she ordered my burger just the way I like it. Light mustard, no onions, three pickles. Not two. Two pickles don’t make it tangy enough. Three is exactly right. She even says those precise words to the person on the intercom, threatening she’ll return it if they don’t add that third pickle on there.
The person over the intercom is annoyed by the sigh they give her, but Penny is unruffled. She pulls up to the window and tosses money at the lady.
“I can pay for my own shit,” I grit out.
She makes a derisive snort. “This isn’t a date. It’s called convenience. Your bag is in the back. You pick up the tab next time.”
Now I feel stupid.
This girl makes me crazy.
The lady hands her our drinks and then the bag. Penny refuses to leave until she’s checked over my burger, taking it upon herself to see if they’ve added that third pickle. Once she’s satisfied, she hands me the bag and peels out. We drive out of the parking lot and then end up in an abandoned church parking lot. It’s quiet, which I like.
Penny pulls out her AirPods and reaches for her phone. Once again, she turns on her white noise song and then pops the pods into her ears. Her hand sticks out impatiently, waiting for me to pass her her food.