Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
No. Anything but that. Of course, Hayes is the picture of innocence. Mr. Charming. Like he is to all the adults around here who can’t see through him.
“Well? We’re waiting.” Obviously, he’s not going to let this go.
This was my choice. I could’ve told the truth, but I shielded this idiot instead. “I’m sorry, Hayes,” I murmur.
“It happens. Do you want me to get you some paper towels?” Oh, I hate him.
“Hayes, I think it would be better if you went to class. Morgan, take a few minutes to clean yourself up if you need to.” Mr. Bradley walks away, using the walkie talkie hooked to his belt to summon the janitor.
Hayes is still standing there, staring at me.
“What?” I bite out.
“You could have told him what really happened.”
“Yeah, no kidding.”
“So why didn’t you?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“I asked, didn’t I?”
“Because I was afraid you’d get in worse trouble than you’re already in because of what happened at the swim meet. I didn’t want you to get kicked off the team.”
His brows draw together, his lips almost disappearing when he sets them in a firm line. “Really.”
“Yeah, really.”
“Even if it got you in trouble?”
“At least I wouldn’t be losing a scholarship.”
Instead of thanking me, all he does is let out a derisive snort. “You’re so fucking pathetic.” He strolls into the classroom without a care in the world, leaving me in the middle of a puddle and wondering why I care about him at all.
15
It’s times like this I’m glad Bridget is here. I could never get all this studying done if she wasn’t looking after Lucy.
By the time I got home from school on Monday, Mom and Mr. Ambrose had already left for their trip. The way Lucy made it sound, she was out somewhere with Bridget at the time. She was surprised when she came back and Mom wasn’t here.
The look Bridget gave me over the top of my sister’s head told me what she thinks about this. Sure, she’s here to do a job, and she does it well. But she’s not blind. At least Lucy has a caring person in her life besides me. I can’t handle everything on my own.
I haven’t exactly been paying a ton of attention in history class. It’s practically impossible with Hayes being there. I know I can’t blame him, that I should be able to pay attention, but just knowing he’s in the room is too distracting. We have an exam tomorrow and since I hardly have the focus to take decent notes during class, I have a lot of reading to do tonight.
My room is dark, the curtains pulled closed. I go straight to my bed and open my laptop, using the light from the screen to navigate the darkness. I kick off my shoes, then change into pajamas. It’s early, but I’m not going anywhere, and if I fall asleep studying, I might as well be comfortable.
It isn’t until I stretch out on my stomach with the laptop on my pillow that I notice the lump on the other side of the bed. A big lump. Human sized.
“You little stinker!” I jump up and pull back the blanket, expecting to find my sister hiding. She likes to pretend we’re in a cave, with the blankets over our heads.
It isn’t my sister. It’s a very almost naked, seemingly unconscious Hayes.
He’s not snoring, but he’s definitely asleep, lying on his back with one arm flung over his face. He’s only wearing a pair of tight boxer briefs, and in the light from the laptop there’s no ignoring his gorgeous body. It’s wrong of me to look at him this way when he’s asleep, but I can’t help the heat that starts bubbling in my core when my eyes land on his chiseled abs, his thick thighs.
And oh, the bulge. Saliva floods my mouth, but that’s nothing compared to what’s going on in my panties.
I shake myself, shocked and a little horrified. This isn’t who I am.
Who I am is the girl who leans over and shakes his arm. “Hayes. You’re in the wrong bed. I need to study.”
He mumbles something and I want to scream. It’s bad enough I like the sight of him. Why does he have to be in my bed? I pick up my laptop and take it to the desk, determined to sit here instead if he’s not going to get up.
I go back to grab my phone from where I left it on the nightstand. Just like that, his eyes pop open, and he springs forward to grab me.
“What are you doing?” I ask with a gasp before I tumble into bed.
He chuckles against my throat, and I’m pretty sure I smell alcohol on his breath. “Sorry. Guess I got the wrong room.”
“Bullshit.” I swat at his hands, his arms, but it doesn’t do any good. “Come on, stop screwing around.”