Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 164557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Fortunately, our professor arrives, putting an end to all further unwanted conversations.
But despite my best efforts to pay attention to the lecture, my gaze keeps drifting to Beckett two rows ahead. And it’s probably the dumbest thought to ever enter my head, but…
I like the way he sits.
It’s a massive turn-on, in fact. He has this way of leaning back in his chair with a casual confidence that makes my heart race. His shoulders stretch the fabric of his gray shirt just right. The way his muscles move under his skin when he shifts in his seat is almost hypnotizing.
When he turns slightly, providing a glimpse of his chiseled jawline and the hint of blond stubble that makes him look just a bit dangerous, my breath catches in my throat.
It takes even more effort to tear my gaze off him, but somehow I manage to do it.
LARS & B:
Have a drink with us, Charlie.
ME:
I told you I’m not interested.
LARS & B:
And yet you still haven’t deleted the app…
I’ve been staring at that text exchange all day. I’m pretty sure Beckett is the one who sent the invitation, since it came about five minutes after our class let out.
I want to scream.
Because he’s right.
If I weren’t interested in any of this, then I would be deleting the app. Or at the very least unmatching these boys.
So why are they still in my phone? Why am I still allowing them to message me?
Ugh.
Because it intrigues me. That’s why.
The idea of being with both of them is the very definition of temptation, but now that our harmless cyber-flirting is veering into real-life encounter territory, I feel like I’m out of my element. Even my alter ego who loves to take risks is apprehensive about pulling the trigger on this one. And if Charlie is apprehensive, then, well, that definitely speaks to how crazy this is.
As I’m walking out of my last class of the day, I type out a brief text to Dante. It’s only three thirty, so it’s a long shot he’ll be free, but I hit Send anyway.
ME:
Need to clear my head and maybe get some advice. Are you around?
DANTE:
Yeah, princess, come by. It’s dead here on weekdays.
I shoulder my bag and take off down the path, my boots clicking on the cobblestones with every step. Gosh, I adore this campus. It’s one of the oldest in the country, and everything about it, every winding path and iron bench and cavernous library, just oozes history. And wealth. I mean, Briar was clearly founded by rich people, but all Ivies are like that. You’ll never find a humble Ivy.
I’m entering the parking lot when the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and I suddenly realize someone’s walking behind me. Normally I’m very aware of my surroundings, especially when I’m alone, but Will and Beckett have muddled my brain and fried my instincts.
I glance at the guy who’s now matching my strides. A frown digs into my brow. Either I’m imagining it or it’s the same guy I saw at the hockey game the other night. He’s got the same distinct gap in his right eyebrow, as if there’s a scar bisecting it.
Or maybe not. Maybe he just likes to shave a line in his eyebrow. Could be something the kids are doing these days.
As I head toward my car, my peripheral vision catches him stopping in the middle of the lot. I can feel his eyes on me, and my frown deepens.
Gripping my keys between my fingers, I spin around to look at him. He’s a few years older than me. An Asian guy with jet-black hair cut short at the sides and left long on top. Average height, lanky frame. He seems completely innocuous, yet my instincts are saying stay away.
“Can I help you?” I call out.
“No, sorry. I just couldn’t remember where I parked. But I see it now.” With a polite smile, he walks past me toward a red Toyota.
Suspicion prickles my gut. He forgot where he parked? That red car stands out in this lot like a signpost. But okay. I’m not going to question why he lied. He’s getting in his car anyway. A moment later, he speeds out of the lot.
I follow suit, leaving campus with Amato Racing in my GPS. For the drive, I queue up an audiobook textbook. I hit Play, and the female narrator begins explaining one of the processes involved in designing electronic circuits for medical devices, which ties directly to my senior capstone project.
But I’m halfway to the track when I simply can’t take it anymore. My brain feels like it’s going to explode. It’s weighed down by so much information. My classes, my capstone, the thousand Method write-ups I’ve completed since finding out Will and Beckett are Lars and B.