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)
Heat trickles down my spine, pooling in my belly as I think about New Year’s Eve. It’s been a couple of days since he kissed me and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. The kiss was…surprising. Unexpected. Warm and exciting.
I absolutely loved it.
Which makes me cringe because of how I abandoned him after it. I’m such a bitch. Problem is, I wasn’t trying to be bitchy. I panicked. It makes me hate the way I am even more. It was just a kiss. I’m almost eighteen, for fuck’s sake. I should be able to kiss a man and enjoy it. I should be able to do a lot more.
But I can’t.
I keep hovering over his name to text him whenever my thoughts ridicule me over my behavior, but I always chicken out.
What will I say?
I loved your kiss, but I’m fucked up, Smash. Find your girl Lacey, because clearly you two had a thing together and it was good enough to make a baby. I’m a head case who will drive you insane.
A deep sadness burrows inside of me, carving holes in my heart.
I don’t want him to find Lacey. I mean, I do for his sake so he can get crap sorted where Zella is concerned. I just don’t want him to find Lacey and remember how much he likes her. Ever since basketball tryouts last week, I’ve enjoyed the times I’ve spent with Terrence. He’s distracting from the madness inside me.
“You okay?” Charlotte asks, her brows furling as she studies me.
“I hate shopping.” Not a lie. “I want to go home.” Also, not a lie.
“Did something happen between you and Terrence?” She glances over her shoulder to make sure Mom isn’t nearby. “You can tell me if…you know…”
“Had sex?” I blurt out.
She nods. “Yeah, that.”
“I didn’t have sex with Terrence.”
“Do you want to?”
Her words have my head snapping up. “He doesn’t want to have sex with me.”
“Pen,” she says. A devious grin she no doubt learned from Cal forms on her face. “I saw the way he looked at you on New Year’s Eve.” She laughs. “Like he wanted to eat you up.”
Fire burns along my flesh, making my skin break out in a sweat.
“I kissed him,” I admit, my voice barely a whisper.
“No fucking way!” she shrieks, making me recoil at her outburst.
“Stop talking,” I grumble, shoving my shirts into her arms. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
She pouts, but I’m not falling for it. I leave her to pay for my items and make my way down the darkened hallway toward the restroom. Before I reach the restroom, I can’t help but notice a corkboard stuffed with all sorts of ads and coupons. They’re all for various shops here on Main Street, even the restaurant Jordy and Roux work at, but the one on orange paper catches my eye.
Babysitter needed for four-year-old for occasional nights and weekends. Text Jack Henderson. Reliable applicants only.
No fucking way.
I rip the ad off the wall so no one else will text him. Quickly, I fire off a text.
Me: Hello. I’m available. Penelope Morgan.
Not a total lie. It’s my full, given name minus my last name.
Unknown Number: How old are you? How did you get my number?
I save his contact in my phone and then respond.
Me: 17. Thrift store. How much?
Jackoff Henderson: Depends on your experience. $10-$14 per hour.
Me: I watch my nephew all the time. He’s that age. When should I start?
Jackoff Henderson: I think it’s best we meet first before I allow you to sit my daughter.
Daughter? Fuck this dude.
Me: Great. Where are you? I can come to you.
Jackoff Henderson: I’m at work. Do you know where the tire factory is?
Me: I’m not driving all the way to the other side of town to meet you there. Can I just come by your house later and meet the kid? I promise. I’m legit.
Jackoff Henderson: Send a pic so I know you’re not some creep.
Rolling my eyes, I switch it to selfie mode. I force one of Charlotte’s cheerleader smiles and send it to him.
Jackoff Henderson: I get off work late tonight. What about tomorrow? Can you come at noon?
Me: It might be closer to dinner, but I’ll be there. Just text me your address.
My heart is hammering in my chest. Did I really just get a job babysitting Terrence’s kid? Why? I know why. I need to help him get her back and this seems like the best way to find answers.
He’s going to freak.
Probably tell me no.
Which is why I definitely don’t need to tell him yet. Not until I find some information that could be useful to him.
I will find out where Lacey is and I will find a way to get Terrence his daughter.
Terrence
I groan when I see Grandma has texted me for the millionth time.