Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 97684 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97684 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
"Too drunk?"
"Fuck off." He holds the pillow over his head, blocking the light from the windows—the ones that face the ocean. "Where the fuck did you guys go? We waited for you for… that place poured them strong."
What is strong to Oliver? I've seen him enter a party with a full bottle of bourbon and leave with an empty one. Sure, he's not downing every drop.
He does share.
Makes a point of it even.
And where the fuck do I get off pointing out his lapses in judgment?
I fucked his sister last night.
I took her virginity.
My balls tighten at the thought.
Blood rushes to my cock.
So not the time. I grab his glass. Mutter something about a refill. Move into the kitchen.
"Holden?" Oliver mumbles. "You drink too much?"
"Did I drink too much?" My chuckle eases the tension in my shoulders. This is fine. Normal.
It can be normal.
That's possible.
I move into the living room.
Oliver sits up enough to take his glass. He nods thanks. Swallows a sip. "Where'd you get the scratch marks?"
"Huh?"
He motions to my chest. Then my back. "You fuck a cat or something?"
"How would I fuck a cat?"
"It's called a metaphor."
"No. I fucked your sister."
He rolls his eyes get real. "Get some new material. Seriously, Holden. Your stuff is getting stale."
My stomach churns. That's how little he thinks it's possible. That's how much he trusts me.
"Who was she?" He swallows another sip. Sits up straighter. "Hot?"
"Of course."
"What was she into?"
Fuck, this is so messed up. No way am I telling him what his sister liked. Even if he thinks I'm talking about some random chick.
Even if he trusts me so much he can't fathom me breaking my promise.
"She was into, uh… none of your business." I finish my water. Move into the kitchen. Drop the glass in the sink.
"Seriously, Holden," Oliver calls. "I'm worried about you. With all these bad jokes. You need to see a shrink or something?"
"Do you?"
"Daisy thinks so. Dad too." His voice shifts back to his usual aloof tone. Like he can't possibly be bothered to contemplate that. Like he's so above mortal concerns. "You picked up some chick while you were watching her?"
"After I took her home," I say. "She was tired."
"Oh." He clears his throat. "You gonna stay in there?"
Yeah. It's easier if I don't have to look him in the eyes. I feel less like a piece of shit.
"You're not gonna give me the dirt?" he asks.
"Going for a run." I move to the dining table. Grab my cell. My keys.
Oliver looks at me funny for a second. "You're really holding out?"
"Later," I say.
"Fuck, you should have heard the shit Luna said last night." His eyes light up. "Girl is trying to kill me."
"Yeah?"
He nods yeah. "She has a fucking mouth on her."
"And you experienced it?"
He shoots me that same get real. "Had to stay down here. So I wouldn't get ideas."
"You really wouldn't?" I ask.
He stares like he doesn't understand the question.
"Really?"
"I think about it, yeah. I'm going to think about it in the shower in about… as soon as you leave. But I like her too much."
"You do?" I swallow hard.
"Even if she wasn't Daisy's best friend… I know her too well. It would be different."
"Maybe that's good."
"Maybe you're getting soft."
If only. "Maybe you're too old for this shit."
"Maybe—" He flips me off. Chuckles as I return the gesture. "Get me Tylenol."
"Your liver is already fucked."
"Aspirin then."
"You don't have any?"
"Loaned it to Luna."
"You're not gonna go in her room? Climb into her bed? Wake her up by eating her out?"
His chuckle is low. Dirty. "Fuck, that will keep me going for a while."
"You're gonna end up thinking of me."
He shakes his head hell no. "Spent most of yesterday looking at her thighs." Something spreads over his expression. Something carnal.
Too much information.
But at least he's distracted.
"I'll get it. But you owe me." I motion to the door later.
He nods sure. Falls back onto the couch as I move outside.
I close the door. Start down the hill.
It's way too bright and I don't have my sunglasses. I make it across the main drag, down the cobblestone streets, all the way to the boardwalk.
I face away from the sun. But after a few minutes, it's too much. My head screams. For water. Coffee. Advil.
The ability to reconcile my loyalty to my best friend and my desire to hold Daisy all night.
Even right now, I want to climb into her bed, hold her close.
It's not just that I want to make her come. That I want to taste her cunt. Watch her eyes fill with bliss.
Feel her thighs pressed against my hips.
Shit. I'm already getting hard.
I stop. Duck into a pharmacy—there's one every other block. They sell all sorts of common prescriptions. Plus the usual over the counter stuff, water, soda, snacks.
I grab water, aspirin, ibuprofen, a box of condoms, cheap sunglasses.