Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Wanting to avoid Shannan’s bullshit for a while, I make my way through Liam’s home, cutting through the throng of partiers and stopping to say hi to the few people I’ve gotten to know this week.
The music is so loud, I barely hear what anyone is saying, and I zone out, glancing around the party. Couples are hooking up in the hallways and lingering on the stairs while sloppy, drunk girls fumble around, knocking into each other. Girls squeal and laugh as they spill their drinks everywhere while random guys make asses of themselves trying to hit on them.
A familiar laugh sounds over the music, and my gaze shifts back toward the dance floor, and I suck in a breath when I find Zoey dancing with her friends, and fuck me, she’s breathtaking. I can’t tear my eyes off her.
She’s got a drink in her hand, and it’s clear from the light flush in her cheeks that she’s already had a few too many. She dances so carefree, more relaxed and happier than I’ve ever seen her before. She’s simply stunning, and for just a moment, something thaws in my frozen heart.
Her body moves to the music, and goddamn, it’s hypnotizing. In those boots and that tiny skirt, I’ve never wanted her more. I’ve always looked at her as a kid, and well, that’s because we were kids, but now? Fuck! No wonder every guy at school has been desperate for a taste.
A wide smile spreads across her face, and I watch as her friend, Tarni, holds up a bottle of straight Vodka and pours it right into her cup. “Alright, girl,” she calls over the music, leaning into Zoey. “Which one of these assholes is gonna pop that cherry?”
Oh, hell no. Over my dead fucking body.
Zoey laughs and glances around the room as if actually looking for someone to fuck, and a deep anger swirls through my veins. Only as she looks around, those big green eyes find mine through the darkness, her smile so fucking bright it hurts.
She doesn’t respond to Tarni’s question, just simply keeps watching me as she continues to dance, and I can’t look away, the two of us locked in a trance. Zoey laughs to herself, sipping her drink as she moves to the music, her wide stare drawing me in.
I’ve never seen her like this before—like a fucking angel sent right from the heavens—and for the first time in three pain-filled years, I don’t feel plagued by darkness.
I inch toward her as she dances for me, and for some reason, nothing can hold me back tonight, and as I watch her, it feels as though we’re the only people in the room.
My heart thunders.
Zoey doesn’t dare take her eyes off mine, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s where those eyes have always belonged.
It feels so damn right.
She finishes what’s in her drink, and I take another step toward her, that deep, sultry gaze beckoning me, daring me to take everything I’ve ever wanted. She tosses her empty cup over her shoulder, and it hits the guy behind her, but she doesn’t seem to notice, her attention solely on me.
The guy turns around and steps into her, his arm slipping around her waist and forcing her attention up to his gaze, stealing those eyes away from me. He leans down and murmurs something into her ear, and the way she smiles up at him and laughs has a fierce jealousy pulsing through my veins.
My heart races, and I can’t help but watch as he pulls her into him, that perfect body of hers folding against his like it should be doing to mine.
My hands ball into fists at my sides, and while I’ve done absolutely nothing to deserve her, I’m not ready to watch someone else sweep her away.
I have no right to try and hold on to her after the last three years of pushing her away. It’d make life a shitload easier if she just pretended I didn’t exist, but this . . . no. I can’t fucking stand seeing her like this.
I force my stare away, needing another drink, and this time, it’s going to be something a lot stronger than a fucking beer. I turn away and stalk back toward the kitchen, my hand slipping into my pocket for a cigarette.
How the fuck could I let her get to me like that?
Zoey James has me weak, and I don’t like it.
Just before stepping out to the kitchen, I glance back and find her through the crowd, needing to know if this was all for show and if I still had her attention, but instead, my rage hits an all-new high.
The guy tries to kiss her, and I watch as she turns her face away, shaking her head and trying to tell him no, but he doesn’t listen. She pushes at his chest, but he holds her tighter, his arm locking around her waist and keeping her pinned against him. His other hand trails down to her ass, squeezing tight, and her soft cry for him to stop is like a knife right to my chest.