Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Only deep down I knew it wasn’t.
A laugh cackled out from over the music, a head tilting back. Callan was laughing with Sass, only Sass wasn’t laughing, she was the one talking.
Fucking weird.
I hadn’t spoken any words to Sass, but she comes off as a complete fucking recluse. Is she funny? I couldn’t help but want to know what she had said to Callan to make her laugh. Though it wasn’t hard to make Callan laugh. Or moan. Or anything, really.
“Can we talk?” Maya cut into my thoughts, and I dragged my greedy eyes away from Sass and back to the girl of the moment—Maya.
“Fine.” I stood, snatching the bottle of whiskey on my way. The beach was loaded with people from all over, celebrating New Year’s Eve. Fucking twenty-twenty. This better be the year I get some answers.
I followed her until we hit a sand dune that was so high that I had to fight the urge to holler at Keats to go grab the boards to slide down it.
“So, here’s the thing,” Maya interrupts my thoughts again, her hands on her hips. She’s wearing a neon green bikini with a little white skirt, a complete contrast against her beautiful brown skin.
Fuck, but she was beautiful.
I’ve always loved my girls a little fucking damaged, that way when I inflict more pain on them, they’d be used to it. They’re the only ones who can handle me. I was built for war, not for love. I don’t want to break people. I want them already broken. I don’t want to feel that way, but I can’t help it.
“I’m pretty sure you know how I feel about you, Kill…”
I flicked off the lid to my whiskey and brought it to my mouth. I take one hard gulp, relishing the smoothness of Teeling single malt whiskey, and how it slips down my throat easily. “I do, Maya.”
“Okay, and?” Maya asked, and even though the dead midnight was hiding her green eyes, I’d still know the exact way she’d be looking up at me right now. The same way she looked up at me when I said we couldn’t take a stray cat home when she was five years old.
I sighed, dropping down onto the sand. I gazed out to the ocean, momentarily fascinated, as I watched the angry waves crash against the sand. Florida was dope, but it wasn’t my vibe. “What do you want me to say?”
There was a long stretch of silence before she scoffed. “That said it all.” She started walking back to where the party was, the bonfire now in full blaze.
“Maya!” I reached for her slender arm. I didn’t want her to be mad at me. There was a reason why I didn’t bring this up with her before. Why I avoided it. I didn’t want to hurt her. Somewhere, between us being born and now, she and I had a bond. A fucking weird one that I wasn’t willing to bet on had I told her that I didn’t share those same feelings with her.
She pulled out of my grip. “Forget it, Kill. I get it.” Her shoulders sagged around her long curly hair. I could hear the shame in her tone. It wasn’t often that Maya bared a weakness, so the fact that she had right now made my heart, or my something, drop.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Maya. You know that.”
She sighed. “I know.” She sniffed, and I reached for her, tucking her beneath my arms and pressing my lips to her head. She continued. “I should have known that if you really wanted me, Killian Cornelii would have taken possession of me. Ever the starved wolf who is never satisfied.”
My body shook as I laughed into her hair, wrapping one of her curls around my finger. “I love you, you know that, right?”
She nodded, her face pressing against my chest. I could feel the dampness from her tears soaking into my Phillip Plein shirt. “I know, just, not the kind of love that I need.”
“Well.” She stepped out of my grip. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m not capable of any other kind of love.”
“I know,” she whispers as if it made her feel just that much better. “Come on, let’s get a drink.”
I flashed her my bottle of whiskey, and she laughed, her head tipping back. “Okay, me a drink, since I don’t drink that nasty stuff.”
“No.” I rolled my eyes, pulling her under my arm as we made our way back to the bonfire. “You just drink cheap vodka.”
“Hey!” She elbowed me in the sides, laughing. “I mean it.” Her laughter dies out. “Are we okay?”
I nodded, giving her one more squeeze. “Yeah, May, we will always be okay.”
“Okay,” she answers, tying her hair up into a messy knot. “Just give me some time, okay? To somehow get over my shit.”