Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“It’s hot chocolate.”
“Oh, well… thank you.” She beams, taking the cup from my hand, bringing it to her lips. She takes a small sip, and a cheesy smile starts to form on her lips, her eyes twinkling with joy.
A moment later she says, “You had them add cinnamon…I can’t believe you remember that.”
This girl. I swear.
“You think I would ever forget ten-year-old you stomping your foot and yelling at your mom for not putting cinnamon in your hot chocolate?”
“I think you just remember that everyone was laughing because I was pronouncing it cimmanin.”
“That too, but it wasn’t like I was trying to make fun of you,” I lie, because I totally was trying to make fun of her.
She gives me a disbelieving look, “You’re still bad at lying, Remmy.”
“Is that so?” I lift a brow, enjoying the light banter between us. This I miss. The conversations, the memories, always having that someone to lean on when you need them most.
“Rem,” Layla calls behind us, and just like that, the perfect balloon sheltering us from the rest of the world pops. The smile on Jules’ face falls, and she turns so she’s facing forward and away from me.
Fuck you, Layla. For once in my damn life, I wish I wasn’t such a fucking manwhore. I know Jules is uncomfortable sitting beside me with Layla behind us, probably because she knows we’ve fucked, and she’s more than likely comparing herself to her when there is no comparing her to anyone.
Jules is Jules. Layla’s just another chick I used to try and rid the memory of the one and only person I ever loved.
“Layla,” I greet her coldly.
“Why don’t you come sit beside me?” she whines.
“I’m talking to Jules.”
“Whatever…” she huffs, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder. Thankfully she doesn’t say anything else to me. Class seems to drone on for what seems like hours. Jules remains facing forward, not even looking at me once.
Gritting my teeth in frustration, I try to figure out how to make this easier for her. I’ve fucked a lot of girls, and the last thing I want is to upset her, but I can’t change the things I’ve done in my past. I was hurting and using my body to get over that pain was the easiest thing I could do.
When the professor finally excuses us, all I want to do is drag Jules somewhere where we can be alone and talk. I feel jittery, my knee bouncing up and down before I jump up from my seat. I wait patiently while Jules gathers her stuff. I’m about to ask her to come home with me when Layla positions herself in front of us with her hands on her hips.
Saying a silent prayer, I hope like hell she keeps her fucking mouth shut…but of course, as soon as I think it, her mouth opens.
“I see you found yourself a new lay for this week, Rem.” Her tone tells me she’s jealous, and if she was a guy, I would slug her right in the fucking face, but she’s not, so I just stand there watching the train wreck in slow motion. When she turns cattiness on Jules, I almost lose it. My fists clenched so tightly I might pull a muscle.
“Layla…” I warn, but she ignores me, her eyes bleeding into Jules. What the fuck was I thinking letting this bitch touch me?
“Don’t get too attached, he’ll come back to me when he needs his dick sucked good, you don't look like the kind who knows what he likes.” Layla slaps her glossy lips together.
Before I even realize it, Jules is pushing past Layla. Reaching for her, I try and grab onto her arm to stop her, but like always, she slips through my fingers.
“You fucking bitch,” I spit in Layla’s face. “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t talk to her again. Unlike you, she’s a permanent fixture in my life.” I don’t waste any more words on Layla and instead, take off running after Jules.
Jogging out the door, my heart thumps loudly in my chest. The thought of losing Jules because of someone like Layla takes root in my mind. I can’t lose her, not when I just got her back. I spot her up ahead, her booted feet pounding against the pavement angrily.
“Jules,” I call out to her, running a little faster to catch up.
“No...do not…” I can see her shaking her head, but I don’t care if she doesn’t want to see me or talk to me. I belong to her...and she belongs to me, we don’t have to admit it to each other, but we both know it’s true. Once close enough, I reach out and grab onto her shoulder, turning her around, and pulling her into my chest so she can’t escape me. My chest heaves, my lungs burning from chasing her, and the simmering of my building temper over Layla’s remarks.