Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 116759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
My stomach dropped.
The room was set up as it would be for a student. Single bed by the window. Desk opposite. One wardrobe.
The window was completely taped up, and they’d lit extra lamps to make up for it.
“Cameras.” Arthur pointed to the upper corner above the door and the one near the window that had a straight shot of the bed. “We’ve also placed mics around the room so we can clearly hear your conversations. You’re in here for three hours. If at any time you need to leave, press this.” He pointed to a red button that had been attached to the wall near the door. “Someone will come to let you out.”
He offered us the clipboards he’d carried under his arm, along with a pen. “We need you to read this disclaimer and sign the waiver. It pretty much states that you’re happy for us to use our recordings for the experiment. It also states that none of the footage or sound recordings will be uploaded online for public consumption, but we may include excerpts of conversations or actions in our research paper, which will be available online.”
Great.
Now I had to watch what I said unless I wanted everyone to know what Sebastian had done.
That compromised the integrity of the experiment because Arthur and his team were looking for authentic interactions.
As if he read my mind, Arthur continued, “Please try to be as honest and genuine with each other as possible. Guarding your words, your interactions, will compromise the experiment. Thank you.”
Once we’d signed, he nodded, thanked us, and left.
The door locked behind him.
Reluctantly, I turned to Sebastian.
“I read that book. The one with the dragons. It was quite good.”
Was he serious?
“Any more romance recommendations?” He gave me a coaxing smile I wanted to smack off his face.
He thought he could woo me with his “sexy man reading romance books” schtick? I cursed the day my copy of a romantasy book fell out of my bag during our session. Intrigued by the cover, Sebastian flipped through it and happened to land on a sex scene. His teasing led to me defending the romance genre and effusively explaining the benefits of reading it. I’d argued so passionately on behalf of my love of romance books—all subgenres!—that he’d promised to read it.
I hadn’t actually thought he would, and I still wasn’t sure he had. He was a known liar, after all.
I wanted to interrogate him about the plot details to catch him in his lie, but that would mean validating his decision to once again act cavalier about our estrangement.
Instead, I glared sullenly at him.
Sebastian’s countenance turned serious. “I’m going to apologize now and if you still hate me when I’m done, I’ll leave you alone.”
Last Semester
“This is a mistake. We shouldn’t be doing this,” I whispered, feeling panic rise in my chest as I crouched behind a hedge with Sierra.
“That dickwart Olly is doing this because I dumped him, and I’m going to prove it,” Sierra seethed, peering over the top of the hedge to the building across the busy street.
We’d jumped on a train to Haymarket with our bikes and ridden from the station to the student accommodation in Westfield. All because Sierra got a lead on who the Potterrow Blokes were. When I’d gotten back to the flat after my tutorial session with Sebastian yesterday, Sierra was there. She’d told us she’d bumped into a drunk friend of Oliver Abernathy’s last night and he’d let the cat out of the bag.
Olly Abernathy was the son of a wealthy financier in London. He’d been brought up in Kent, attended boarding school, and was friends with lots of highfalutin people. Last year he and Sierra had engaged in casual dating. Sierra ended it when Olly started to get attached.
According to the drunk friend of Olly’s, he’d decided to get a little revenge on Sierra for rejecting him by setting up a rival podcast to malign us.
If that was true, I honestly despaired at the immature toxicity of the male species.
Sierra had pumped drunk friend for a lot of information. According to drunk friend, Olly ran the podcast from a studio in his apartment. Sierra had slept over in his flat, so she knew exactly where that was.
“This is breaking and entering. We could be charged.” I tried to dissuade my best friend because now that we were here, rationale was returning. Maddie had decided she quite rightly didn’t want to be a part of unmasking the guys if it meant possible criminal charges. I’d gone along with Sierra because she’d been determined to do it with or without us. Her indignation knew no bounds.
“Plus, someone might steal our bikes.”
“So.” She glowered at me. “These assholes are trying to ruin something we worked our asses off to build just because one of them didn’t like that he got dumped. Tell me you’re an entitled toxic male without telling me!”