Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 83550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
I shrug, trying to brush it off. “It’s just how it was. I got used to it.”
“Well, you don’t have to do that when I’m around,” he says firmly.
I blink, and my heart stutters. “Bridger, this isn’t—”
“Real?” he cuts in as his expression grows serious. “Yeah, I know. But that doesn’t mean I can’t take care of you if you need it. That’s all.”
Instead of responding, I grab the pillow again and toss it at his face. He catches it easily, laughing as he pulls me down onto the bed beside him.
“Admit it,” he says, his voice teasing. “Little Miss Independent liked being taken care of.”
I glare at him, but my lips twitch, betraying me. “Maybe. Just a little.”
He grins, his hand brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me for the time being, Tate.”
I swallow hard, the weight of his words settling over me. I should argue or push him away. At the very least, remind him that whatever this is doesn’t mean there’s anything between us.
But as his gaze holds mine, I can’t bring myself to say anything at all.
Western University Chat App
FragileLikeABomb
Hypothetical question: You’re stranded on a desert island. What three things do you bring?
ColdAsIce17
Easy. A multi-tool, a water filter, and a boat.
FragileLikeABomb:
A boat? Isn’t that cheating?
ColdAsIce17
Says the person who probably just thought “Wi-Fi.”
FragileLikeABomb
Touché. But let’s not pretend you wouldn’t miss messaging me.
ColdAsIce17
Miss? You overestimate yourself.
FragileLikeABomb
Keep telling yourself that, Cold.
26
Bridger
I slouch in one of the library’s oversized chairs, scrolling through my phone. Steele sits across from me, leaning back with his hands folded behind his head.
“You doing okay, bro?” he asks, breaking the quiet hum around us. “That last message was brutal.”
With a shrug, I keep my eyes focused on the screen. “I’m fine.”
Even though the messages have been relentless, blowing up phones on a daily basis, the sting has dulled. Or maybe I’ve just gotten better at pretending they don’t bother me. Either way, I’m not giving whoever’s behind this the satisfaction of knowing they’ve burrowed deep beneath my skin.
The only thing I can control in this situation is my response.
Steele studies me like he’s trying to crack a secret code. After a long pause, he leans forward. “You know what? Strangely enough, I actually believe you. You no longer look seconds away from committing homicide.”
I glance up. “What’s so strange about that?”
“I don’t know. I was kind of expecting that you’d be going off the rails by now.” He smirks. “Maybe having a fake girlfriend suits you.”
A huff of laughter slips free from me. “You might be right about that.”
“Crazy, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
He raises a brow, clearly enjoying himself, before dropping his voice. His expression shifts to something more serious. “So, do you still think she’s the one behind the messages?”
“No,” I say without hesitation.
Steele tilts his head, clearly skeptical at how I’ve reversed course so quickly. “Is it because she said so? Or because she said so after sucking your dick?”
The anger that whips through me is sharp and takes me by surprise. My shoulders tense as I shoot him a glare. “Shut the fuck up, Steele. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He raises his hands in mock surrender as concern floods his eyes. “Hey, I’m just saying. At this point, everyone’s still a suspect. Even Holland.” There’s a pause. “Or maybe I should say especially Holland. And less than a week ago, you thought the same damn thing.”
I open my mouth to fire back when my phone chimes with an incoming message, cutting me off. I glance at the screen, and my heart does a weird little flip when I see the notification is from the campus chat app.
FragileLikeABomb.
It’s the first time in days I’ve thought about her. Normally, she’s the first person I turn to when things go sideways.
But now it’s Holland.
Steele pushes to his feet, stretching like he’s been sitting there for hours. “I’m gonna take off. I’ll see you back at the house.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, distracted by my phone.
He hesitates, and I wonder if he’ll say more about Holland. I brace myself for an argument. But it never happens. In the end, he walks away, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
He’s the one person I hate being at odds with.
Not wanting to think about my cousin, I tap the message and open the chat.
FragileLikeABomb
Hey, how’ve you been? We haven’t talked much lately.
Guilt presses down on me as I stare at the screen. She’s right. I’ve been MIA, and it’s not fair to her.
Me
Yeah, sorry about that. Things have been busy.
Her reply is quick.
FragileLikeABomb
No worries. Just glad you’re okay.
Our conversation feels off. Stilted in a way it never has before. Usually, our chats flow effortlessly, like we’ve known each other forever. But that’s not the case this evening.
Even though my response isn’t exactly a lie, that’s what it feels like I’m doing.