Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
After a chirped “yes,” she hung up, and I started gathering my shit to leave.
“You out?” Lars asked as I breached the door of my office.
“Out,” I confirmed as I locked it with my thumbprint then turned to his open office door. “It’s all yours for the next three days. Make it worth it.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’ve been telling you to leave for six months and hand over the reins for a little bit. You’re a control freak, though. Try not to call six times tonight.”
“Want to bet I won’t?” I wiggled my eyebrows at him.
I could win this bet thanks to my dad. He had raised me to be a control freak just like him.
“No,” he said. “Because there’s something weird about your eyes right now. I’ll see if I’m right, though.”
Grinning, I walked out of my office, down the back stairs, then through a small hallway that connected the two separate parts of the building to each other.
The smell was the first thing that hit me when I walked in the door.
Glue and something else. Paint thinner maybe.
“…I am not getting onto the back of his bike, Sara Reed,” I heard her arguing.
My eyes took in Greer Ortiz in all her beautiful, pissed-off glory.
Greer wasn’t tall but wasn’t short. She was kind of a medium height.
If you looked at her with a quick glance, she reminded me a lot of Letty Ortiz off of The Fast and the Furious movies. She had the curvy, beautiful shape. Not skinny, but definitely not fat, either. She had a beautiful set of tits that were the perfect size to wrap your hands around and squeeze, yet they were still proportional to her body size.
From the back, like the view I had of her right then, she had an ample ass and a fantastic set of legs encased in painted-on jeans.
But the best part? Her long, wavy brown hair. It came down to right above her ass and was so silky and smooth. I always wanted to run my fingers through it. Sometimes I did just to see her get pissed off.
Those few seconds I got to run my fingers through it were always the sweetest.
Mostly because I knew it would piss her way the hell off. But also because it really was that smooth and silky.
“Wait…what do you mean free drinks?” she asked.
I rolled my eyes.
Greer and Sara were such alcoholics.
“Okay, well…” She hesitated, a full deer skin in her hands that she was about to start putting onto a deer mount she had hanging on a stand in front of her. “I have to finish gluing this mount’s eyes in. Then I’ll go look for the dumbass.”
The dumbass was my nickname. Though, since the boys at the office had started calling me “KD” and sometimes my brother and Sara got in on it, I had a feeling that the acronym KD meant something totally different to her than it did to the rest of them. My guess was “Kyle Dumbass,” but I didn’t plan on ever asking her to find out.
“No, I’ll not promise to be good,” she claimed. “He wants us there, that’s his problem and not mine.”
Her shoulders slumped and she grumbled. “Why do you always have to play the pity card? He’s a grown-ass man, Sara.” She paused, and her head hung. “He’s not nice to me. And just because he’s your best friend doesn’t make him mine. Need I remind you that he purposefully took the tire off my car last week just to make my life a living hell?”
I took the tire off her car because her tires were fucking bald, and I wanted her to see it.
That was why she needed a ride, as a matter of fact.
Her car was in the shop getting new tires.
All because I was the one who pointed the damn dangerousness of her tires to her by taking one off and putting it on the roof of her car so she would have to be eye level with it.
“They weren’t that bad,” she argued with Sara.
“Okay, well, he could’ve just told me,” she defended herself.
I had told her. Multiple times.
And if my best friend was going to keep riding in that car, then she was going to do something about it.
Granted, I probably didn’t need to slash the tire, forcing her to face the issue, but extreme things needed to be done when it came to Greer Ortiz.
“Fine,” she grumbled. “Love you, too. Bye.”
Then she hung up.
“That motherfucker,” she continued to grumble.
“Are you talking about me?” I asked, leaning my shoulder against the wall so that I could get comfortable.
She still needed to glue an eye on after all.
Greer’s shoulders stiffened and she turned.
CHAPTER 2
It’s okay if you don’t like me. Not everyone has good taste.
-Greer to Davis
GREER
“What are you doing here?” I snarled.