Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“You obviously have something to say, so spit it out.”
“There’s nothing,” I whisper, needing to remind myself that this is not the same boy I met at the beach. They may look identical, but that’s where the similarities end.
A deep growl of frustration vibrates in his chest. “I’m not going to let you go until you tell me what’s going on.”
“You can stop with the games. We both know that there was never anything between us. How could there be when you’re a Rothchild and I’m a Hawthorne?” I pause, waiting for him to deny it. When he doesn’t, a fresh wave of pain crashes over me. “Because that’s all I’ll ever be, right? A Hawthorne.”
“You don’t understand how complicated the situation is,” he growls.
I blink back the tears that have filled my eyes. “That’s because you refuse to tell me.”
Why does this hurt so much?
This boy should mean nothing to me.
There was never anything between us.
It was all lies.
“Summer,” he whispers, his lips grazing mine as he forces my wrists up the wall until I’m stretched out beneath him. “Give me time to figure this out.”
Instead of cutting me loose, all he wants to do is string me along until there’s another punch line. Until he can humiliate and hurt me.
When he nips my lower lip, liquid need pools in my core and I whimper in frustration. Not only am I angry with him but at myself for being weak and stupid where he’s concerned. I know what the right course of action is. I just need to be strong enough to take it.
“The deal we made is over,” I force myself to say in a voice devoid of emotion. He’s gotten enough from me already. I can’t afford to give him anything more. “If you want to make our lives hell, do it.”
With that, I shove out of his embrace and fly toward the door.
“Summer!”
It takes every ounce of my strength not to look back.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I sprint the last quarter mile until the long stretch of our driveway comes into view. Only then do I allow my legs to slow. Running is the only thing that settles my mind, allowing me a rare slice of peace. I push myself until a burn grows in my chest before spreading to the rest of my body like an infection. When thoughts of Kingsley pop into my head, I force my legs to pump faster until all I’m able to focus on is my labored breath. The endorphins kick in and for a few blissful moments, there’s nothing but the road stretched out in front of me.
Once I reach the house, I finish my workout with a few stretches before walking through the front door and stumbling to a halt. Mom is on her hands and knees scrubbing at the marble tile floor. A bucket of water is next to her. I unzip the pocket of my shorts, pull out my phone, and turn off the music before removing the AirPods from my ears.
“Hey.” My chest rises and falls with the sharp pants that leave my body. “What are you doing?”
Mom has always kept a clean house, but this is a little obsessive even for her.
“Just making sure everything is immaculate,” she murmurs, not bothering to glance up from the spot she’s scrubbing.
When she doesn’t elaborate any further, I follow up with, “Why?”
She glances up and blinks. “Did you forget that we’re having people over tonight?”
“Oh, right.” Actually, I did.
My heart sinks at the idea of all those Hawthorne assholes filling my house. I’ve done my best to push this party to the back of my mind and forget about it. Guess I did too good of a job. I shift my weight and glance away. “Is attendance mandatory?”
If I’m lucky, this is more of an adult affair and I can skip it.
Her eyes widen as she straightens, sitting back on her heels. “Of course you have to attend! It’s important that our family appear as a united front.”
I humph out a breath as the edges of my lips draw down. Schmoozing a bunch of townies isn’t exactly how I want to spend my Saturday night.
“What’s the point of this again?” Exasperation tinges my voice. Before she’s able to respond, I tack on, “Do you really think this will change how people perceive us?” I couldn’t even change the mind of one person, let alone the whole school. Mom doesn’t understand what we’re up against. Admittedly, in the beginning, neither did I. I still don’t have a full picture. What I do know is that the history in this town goes way back. And the memories go back even further.
“I hope so,” she admits in a tight voice. “We need everything to go smoothly. This has to work.”
“What has to work?” I blink as her odd choice of words echo through my head. “Is there something going on?”