Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
I’m so fucking hard, but right now all I can do is tease myself. Giving her a job was either the best idea I’ve ever had or it’s going to be my own personal hell.
Chapter Five
TINSLEY
The happiness from the first day at my new job fades the instant I step inside my house. My stepmother Anne is waiting, and before I can say a word, she grabs a hold of my shoulder and drags me toward the stairs.
“Where have you been?” she hisses.
Normally no one cares where I am. Of course, the first time I’m away from home and doing something that makes me happy, she’s looking for me.
“I went to the coffee shop to work on homework,” I lie. Anne rolls her eyes at me while her nails dig in a little deeper. The feel of them makes me wince.
“Get upstairs and change. We have dinner guests that will be here shortly,” she orders before releasing her hold on me. “And take that stupid thing out of your hair. How old are you?”
“Ah!” I yelp when she snatches the bow from my hair, taking a few strands with it.
“I left a dress for you on the bed. Now go!”
I want to tell her to give me my bow back, but I know better than to push her. Instead, I hurry up the stairs like she told me to.
I’ve never been ordered to have dinner with them before. It’s strange, but maybe my father requested it. He and my stepmother tend to go out most nights. Or at least on the nights he’s home.
When I enter my bedroom, I see a black dress laid out for me. I hate that she was in my space, and I also hate the color black. The dark color makes me think of Callum and how it suits him. For me, it feels depressing.
There’s a tag on the dress, and when I see the brand name and how much it cost, my eyes widen. Whoever their guests are, my father and stepmother are pulling out all the stops.
My door swings open, and my stepsister Willow barges into my bedroom without knocking. "Mom wanted me to bring you these." She tosses a pair of heels onto my bed and then points her perfectly painted gold fingernail at me. "Don't scuff them."
"I have my own heels."
"Then tell her that." Willow stomps out of my room and slams the door behind her. As much as Willow’s mother dotes on her, she’s as likely to defy her as I am.
I pick up the heels, and I can already tell they are going to kill my feet. I have plenty of shoes that I love, but they're only an inch or two tall. My stepmother has this weird thing about height and wanting me to be taller. Willow is nearly six feet tall and has incredibly long legs.
When I toss my bag on the chair next to my bed, my phone slips out. Crap. I told Callum that I would text him as soon as I got home. Now I’ll be in trouble, which might not be a bad thing.
Today's punishment for being late was not only delicious but also torturous. I don’t know why sitting without panties on while I took notes made my body so needy. The pulse between my thighs was constant. It’s only now that I’m home that it’s lessened. When I was getting ready to leave, I thought he'd give them back. I couldn’t bring myself to ask for them, and when he didn’t mention them, I let it go. He didn’t seem fazed as he tossed them in his desk, so maybe he forgot about them.
Callum: You should have been home by now.
Me: Sorry, sir.
Callum: Don’t let it happen again.
I bite down on my lower lip. Normally, when I’m scolded, guilt consumes me, but with Callum, it's different. I don’t want to disappoint him, but for some reason there’s a bit of fun in acting out. I don’t understand my reactions to him. Heck, I don’t understand his reactions to me either.
Sometimes the way he says things sounds sexual, but it’s not. He hasn’t touched me inappropriately, though I’m dying for him to do it.
Another text pops up, but this time it's from Charlie. Charlie is the only friend I've made at my new school. She and I couldn't be more opposite, but I think I grew on her. She teasingly calls me a creeping fig, which I had to google to find out is a fast-growing vine. It’s not surprising with how much time Charlie spends gardening that she’d come up with a name like that for me.
Charlie: You good?
Me: Yeah, why?
Charlie: You didn't bug me to hang out after school.
Me: Figured you were busy.
Charlie: You know?
I snort a laugh. Do I know that she’s been secretly hooking up with the new football coach who suddenly quit? Yeah, I know.