Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Then again, sometimes it’s just hate.
When we’re about halfway to the house, Everly says, “You know, Summer really does like you.”
Surprised by the comment, I huff out a disbelieving laugh. “That might have been true a couple weeks ago, but I doubt that’s the case any longer.”
She flicks a glance in my direction as the wind continues to whip over us. “She’s protective of her twin and doesn’t want to see him hurt.”
“He’s just as protective,” I murmur.
“That’s true. But don’t worry, I’m trying to soften her up. We’ll see how it goes.”
“I won’t hold my breath.”
Once we reach the sprawling house, Everly stops. “I’m going to stretch for a couple of minutes but I’ll catch you later, all right?”
I nod and flash a smile. “Thanks for the talk. It really helped.”
“Any time.”
With a wave, I jog up the wooden stairs and slip into the kitchen. I half wonder if I’ll find Summer enjoying a cup of coffee like yesterday. Maybe we need to sit down and have an honest conversation about everything that’s going on. The truth of the matter is that I have feelings for her brother and she’s the last person I want to be at odds with.
Instead, I find the bright and sunny space empty. I glance at the clock on the microwave and realize that I must have lost track of time while walking the beach. It’s much later than I assumed.
I have no idea if Austin will still be in bed.
Although, I hope so.
My heart picks up tempo just thinking about sliding between the sheets. Especially since he was gloriously naked when I snuck from the room earlier this morning. I don’t think I’ve ever slept as well as I did curled up in his arms last night. After we made love, everything felt damn near perfect. My feet pick up the pace as need floods through me. As I walk past an antique credenza polished to a high shine in the family room, I spot a photo and my feet falter as my attention gets snagged.
It’s an eight by ten of Kingsley and his parents. I recognize Keaton from the school functions I’ve attended over the past years. The resemblance between him and his son is uncanny. Both are tall with dark hair and eyes. Keaton has a bit of gray around his temples. My gaze shifts to the two females in the photograph. The older one is blonde and glamourous. I’m guessing that's his mother. My mind tumbles back through my memories.
What’s strange is that I don’t ever remember meeting her.
The fourth person in the picture is a young teenage girl. I step a bit closer, wanting to get a better look. She’s gorgeous with long, wavy dark hair and matching eyes. Just like Kingsley and his father, it’s easy to see the family resemblance between the three of them.
I’d always thought Kingsley was an only child. I had no idea that—
“That’s Harlow,” a deep voice says from beside me. “My sister.”
A squeak escapes from my lips. I nearly jump a foot before swinging around and taking a hasty step in retreat as my heartbeat explodes beneath my chest.
Our gazes stay locked. There’s nothing about Kingsley’s relaxed demeanor that should make me feel like I’m in peril and yet, I can’t dispel the sensation creeping down my spine. It’s as if I’ve spotted a dangerous predator who could spring at any moment. By the time I realize what’s happening, it’ll be much too late.
I gulp and swallow down the fear that claws at my insides. We’ve attended the same school since freshman year, and while he’s never frightened me, I’ve always been cautious about giving him a wide berth and not getting too close.
He’s just…too much.
Too good looking.
Too forceful and used to getting what he wants.
Even at eighteen years old, Kingsley exudes a power and confidence that most adults twenty years his senior don’t possess. He might be a little more tamed now that he has a girlfriend, but still…
The last thing I want is to make an enemy of him. I’ve already been dancing on that thin line with his girlfriend.
“Oh. I, um—” My brain freezes, and every thought flies out of my head.
When I continue to stumble over my words, he takes pity on me by saying, “She attends a boarding school in England and hasn’t lived here for years.”
Even though it feels unwise, I rip my attention away and stare at the photograph. Now that my gaze is no longer trapped within his, it’s easier to breathe. His eyes are so dark and piercing. It feels like he’s somehow capable of sifting through my innermost thoughts.
“How old is she?” I congratulate myself on wrapping my lips around the words and forcing them out steadily as if I’m not shaking in my shoes.