Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
“Want to go grab that coffee?” she says. “Or maybe something stronger.”
“Yeah, I think I’m going to need it.”
“Me too, girl. Me too.”
Another week comes and goes, with almost no progress. I am starting to think my trip home was all for nothing.
Travis is nowhere to be seen.
He is avoiding me at all costs—how, I don’t know, but he is.
All I know is he’s out on the town every night, stumbling from one neon-lit bar to the next, chugging cheap beer, flirting with strangers, and not letting his body heal at all. I imagine him leaning over bar tops, grinning at bartenders and getting everything he wants.
I have tried to call him, but he refuses to answer.
In fact, I think he might have blocked my number.
It is only making me angrier.
He can’t avoid me forever.
For now, though, I am in desperate need of a distraction, so when Reagan tells me she wants to go sunbake on the beach all day, I jump at the chance.
So, here we lay, the sun searing down on us as if it wants to burn every trace of doubt from my bones. Reagan and I have claimed a patch of sand that is close enough to people, but far enough that they aren’t bothering us, and it feels somewhat private. We lay side by side on our striped towels, knees bent, toes wriggling in the warm sand.
The salt air tastes like home, and I forget just how much I have missed this. The tide laps in a steady rhythm, the air just gusty enough to keep us cool. Reagan, with her wind-tousled dark hair and perfect skin, closes her eyes and tilts her face toward the sun, soaking up rays for the coming winter. I turn and prop myself on one elbow, about to ask her if she wants to get really, really drunk tonight when a group of guys stops in front of us.
I have already noticed them, of course, because they have been walking up and down like they own every inch of sand between the water and the boardwalk. The one that is already smiling at me is tall, lean, bleach-blonde hair flickering in the sunlight. He has olive skin that contrasts with his ice-blue eyes, which shine beneath dark lashes as he scans us. When he grins, I can’t help but pay attention, because his teeth are so damned perfect and he looks like someone personally carved him out of stone. I push up, so I’m sitting.
“Hey ladies,” he murmurs, eyes traveling over me. Not in a creepy way, but in a way that lets me know very clearly that he is enjoying the view.
Considering it has been a while since I have had a man look at me like that, I’ll take it.
Reagan grins and arches a brow. “Well, hello, gentleman.”
The other two guys, who I have barely noticed as they just don’t stand out in comparison to the first one, grin.
“Couldn’t help but notice two drop-dead-gorgeous ladies as we were walking by,” he says, stepping closer. He leans forward, accentuating the angles of his collarbone. The other two guys linger behind him—I give them a quick once-over, taking them in. One has sandy hair and an easy grin, the other is dark-haired and quiet, watching with mild interest.
I arch an eyebrow. “Does that line actually work?”
He shrugs, flashing his perfect teeth. “You haven’t told me to beat it yet, so I’d say I’m in for a chance.”
I can’t help the smile that stretches across my face.
Reagan grins. “Unfortunately for you three, I’m taken,” she says casually. “But she’s not.” She nods at me, mischief in her eyes.
I nudge her in the ribs, laughing softly. The blonde guy cocks one eyebrow at me. His ice-blue eyes are persistent, curious. “So, what’s it gonna take for you to let me buy you a drink then?”
I let out a soft laugh, more amused than offended. “You’re confident, I’ll give you that.”
“She would love to,” Reagan says. “In fact, we both would. I am parched and I know there is an incredible cocktail bar over the road. I might be taken, but I never say no to a free drink. I’m sure one of you can buy.”
She pushes to her feet, flicking her hair, completely unbothered.
God, I wish I had her confidence.
“I guess I don’t get a choice,” I say casually, and take the hand that is now extended for me.
He chuckles, then helps me pick up my towel.
“Just so you know,” I say, packing my things away. “My dad is a biker, so if you try anything, I can make sure you’re buried where no one will find you.”
“Biker dad?” He grins, unbothered. “That’s badass.”
Reagan wiggles her brows at me.
“I’m Violet, by the way,” I say, dusting off my cut-off shorts.
“Jacob.” He smiles, and I notice the faint scar at the corner of his mouth. “Pleasure.”