Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Me: Everyone is on your shit list then. Give everyone the cold shoulder.
I look over the top of my phone to see her shoulders shake with suppressed laughter.
Olivia: I’m here to make friends! If I’m rude to everyone, people will think I’m stuck up.
I gnash the back of my teeth together. Does Olivia really care what other people think about her? Because if she does, then this whole threesome thing might hurt her feelings. Not the actual relationship but shit that others say about it. I wonder if I should bring up the Snap story but decide not to. We’ll talk about it over dinner.
Me: Levi wants you to get a T-shirt that says “Property of the Audley Twins” on the back.
Olivia: I’m in. We’ll get one made for each of you, too.
Me: That says I’m the property of the Audley Twins?
Olivia: That says you’re my property.
Me: Everyone here’s gonna know then.
Olivia: They better.
And that answers that. She wants it to be known that we’re a unit, so corny, personalized T-shirts, here we come.
CHAPTER 8
OLIVIA
As the upperclassman drones on about the campus map, I practice writing Olivia Audley with my pink pen. Our names go together well, if I do say so myself. It will probably be forever before I get to change my last name, but that doesn’t stop me from doodling it over and over again. It’s something I’ve done for years, especially when I grow bored in a classroom.
I really love the idea of them wearing shirts with my name on it. Shopping is so back on today’s agenda. I’ll have to let Erika know. I’ve already been wearing their name on my back for years since half my closet is old jerseys and shirts of Levi’s. It isn't a ring, but at least it’s something. I know other girls look at those clothes with envy. Who can blame them? It’s an honor to wear the Audley name.
On the flip side, the thought of them wearing my name on their backs fills me with satisfaction. While I know they would never cheat, I want everyone to know they belong to me. They do their caveman-beating-chest things, and I can do mine, too. Cavewoman want name on you. I snort at my own stupid joke. My phone lights up with a text.
Zeke: What’s so funny up there?
Me: I remembered I forgot panties when I changed. You still got mine?
I fight a laugh. I glance over my shoulder to see him giving me a look that is a cross between I’m going to spank your ass and I’m going to maul you like an animal in heat. I wink, turning back around to pretend I’m listening to what is being said.
I’d pay better attention if I knew I needed to, but there’s no doubt in my mind that my two men have mapped out a way for either one, or both of them, to walk me to and from every single class. Learning my way around will come with time.
“That should do it. If you have any questions, feel free to come up and ask,” the upperclassman running the orientation session says. I grab my stuff, then turn around and End up nearly running into someone. At first, I think it’s Zeke because he’s standing so close, but as my eyes travel upward, I see a guy with shaggy blond hair instead of my giant dark-haired boy. The blond reminds me of the guy who gave me and Erika the flyer earlier, but I could be mistaken. My friend Kimmy used to joke that somehow all other boys blend together and look the same to me but the Audley twins I could tell apart with my eyes closed. They each have their own scent that I find intoxicating. I feel my cheeks get flushed just thinking about it. I snap myself out of my sexual haze and focus on the boy standing in front of me.
“Why’d you change?” he asks, his eyes running down my body.
“Huh?” I ask in confusion. I look down at my outfit and remember I did change.
“Those shorts were—” Before he can finish, he goes flying from a one-armed shove from Zeke.
“How come you didn’t play football too?” I joke.
“Fuck. Zeke. I was just messing around.” The guy goes to get up but stops when Zeke levels him with a look.
“Go mess the fuck around somewhere else. That’s your one warning,” he tells him. A couple of girls laugh and whisper about what happened. “Go ahead. Spread that shit around,” Zeke orders, turning to look at the giggling girls. They stop chattering and leave immediately. He slips his hand into mine and leads me out of the auditorium.
He walks faster than normal, and my short legs are barely able to keep up. I nearly jog to keep pace with him.