Total pages in book: 12
Estimated words: 11137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 56(@200wpm)___ 45(@250wpm)___ 37(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 11137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 56(@200wpm)___ 45(@250wpm)___ 37(@300wpm)
Her canvas backpack, the kind I used to lug around back in high school, is frayed at the edges. It’s pale pink now, but maybe it was crimson red when she first bought it. It definitely looks like it’s gone through so much.
“You carry that every day? It’s gonna hurt your back.”
Finally, she looks at me and pins a gaze at the small notebook in my hand with a pen clipped at the cover. “Okay, thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”
I shrug and smile, not missing her judgmental tone. “I like minimalism.”
“So I see.”
She starts to head to the door, so I rush to keep up. “Are you heading for lunch?”
With a deep sigh, she grips one backpack strap and turns to me. She’s standing one row higher, so we’re almost at eye level. “Listen, Jordan. I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’m not interested.”
“It’s just lunch.”
“No.” She shakes her head, a guarded look on her face. Up close like this, she’s even more beautiful than I initially thought. Long lashes, soft cheekbones, and plump, pink lips. “Watching someone eat from across the table makes me lose my appetite.”
At first, I assume she’s joking. Dry humor kind of stuff. Then, I realize she’s telling the truth. This is a woman who’s not used to lying. The kind who wears her heart on her sleeve. “Huh. A misanthrope.” She does a double take, and I grin. “You think I don’t know big words? Listen, sweetheart. I am more than my good looks.”
“You better be. You don’t look much to begin with,” she says in a deadpan tone.
I dramatically stagger back and rest a palm over my chest. “Ouch. You wound me. Will you make up for it with lunch?”
“No. Over my dead body.” She gives me her back and begins speed-walking with her short legs. Cute. I catch up with her in three long strides.
“One thing about me, Jordyn. I am nothing if not persistent.”
Then I fall back and watch her go. Jordyn is wearing a loose gray shirt and loose denim jeans. But even those clothes couldn’t hide the generous tits, small waist, wide hips, and big ass. Thinking of how I want to explore what’s underneath the unflattering outfit has my cock roaring to attention, and I dig my shoes into the floor to calm myself down. Wow. I just went from having a crush to feeling that pulsing need in my loins.
Jordyn, Jordyn, Jordyn. What have you done to me?
Someone smacks my back hard enough to propel me forward. I turn to see one of my best friends, Toby. Apparently, he either heard or saw me basically begging Jordyn. “What the hell was that about? You never do that shit.” He motions to Jordyn, his eyebrow lifted in confusion.
I scrub a hand across my forehead and let out a deep breath. “I don’t know, man. I don’t know.”
2
JORDYN
The white-haired boy with the same name as me wasn’t kidding when he said he was persistent.
For the next two weeks, he kept asking to have lunch with me. I would say no, and he would stand to his full height, at least a foot taller than me, give me a salute, and grin. “Tomorrow again, then.”
Today, he’s not in class. I hate that I notice. I can’t even name who else I’m sharing this class with, maybe except for three people. And yet, I notice him.
Whether I want to admit it or not, it feels weird not seeing him. The shock of white hair that falls to the top of his ears, his ever-present aviator sunglasses on the back of his head. The mocking, playful green eyes that remind me of pine trees. The generous smiles that oddly make my stomach flip.
He was spot-on when he called me a misanthrope. I have nothing against people, and I don’t necessarily hate them, but I don’t like their presence either. I prefer being by myself.
Someone once asked me if I ever got lonely, and no, I never did. I like my own company. By myself, I’m rarely disappointed, and that way, I never get hurt, either.
It has worked for me so far … until now.
As I stuff my iPad and notebook into my bag, I realize with a pang that Jordan isn’t as annoying as others. In fact, I usually find myself close to smiling whenever he does his usual spiel of, “Will you go to lunch with me?”
He also says it in a robotic voice that makes me want to laugh, like he’s really just going through the motions.
Too many times, I wanted to say yes just to catch him off guard. I guess I didn’t count on the fact that he could and would get tired of asking.
After all, he’s the popular guy in school. Tall, lean, friendly, charming, and, I admit, devastatingly handsome. A deadly combination. One look, and I know he’s the kind of guy who will break hearts, mine included, if I’m not careful. He’s exactly the type I want to avoid as much as I can.