Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 111676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
And thoughts like that were what would get him killed.
His attention went back to the busy concourse, and he cupped his hand around his mouth. “Help save the penguins. Flightless birds need love, too.”
Dude was an idiot.
Two more girls approached the table. One of them picked up a Save the Penguins brochure, intently reading over the pamphlet.
“One for five. Two for eight.” Rogue said. “A small price to help those precious animals.”
The brunette dropped her backpack onto the table and rummaged through the front zipper, quickly handing over the cash.
“There’s a typo on your brochure,” the other girl said, placing the pamphlet on the table and running her pink fingernail over the last sentence: Only we can save the pingers.
I had argued with Rogue for a week about that crap.
“Oh, would you look at that?” Rogue picked it up, brow wrinkled as he pretended to study the intentional typo. “We’ll have to fix that. Thanks.” He flashed her one of his signature smiles that, for whatever reason, made women melt—even in a pink shirt—then both girls walked off.
He reclined against the seat, crossing his arms over his chest with a smug expression.
“Told you it looked like a typo.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
We sat in that stupid heat for half an hour. For every five normal penguins, we sold one “pinger.”
A group of sorority girls had just bought ten—and slipped Rogue and me their numbers—when Rogue clutched his stomach.
“Oh, shit.” He shot up from the chair with such force that it toppled over, clanging onto the sidewalk before he took off in a desperate sprint toward one of the red brick buildings. That was what he got for eating not one but two undercooked breakfasts.
I thumbed through the cash, glancing up when shadows fell over the table. Jade, Cassie, and Monroe stood in front of me. Not a damn smile in sight.
“Look at you, out here doing charity work like a good Samaritan.” Monroe couldn’t have been more condescending…and that said everything.
“Yeah, you know.” I crammed the money into my pocket. “Just doing what I can to save God’s creatures.”
Monroe shot me a vacant look. “While blackmailing some of the others.”
“And getting the rest high,” Jade added.
My attention cut to her, annoyance lancing through my veins. “You sure did your part getting Kappa Theta high.”
“Arguably, my responsibility ends with one man. Tommy.”
I wasn’t getting into this shit with her. “Are you going to buy one or not? Because if not…” I made a shooing motion with my hand.
“Aw,” Cassie said. “But we’re keeping you company since your bestie abandoned you. Who knew anyone could run that fast in loafers?” A smug-as-shit grin shaped her lips.
“If you’re just here to harass me, leave. You’re keeping customers away.”
Jade picked up one of the penguins. “As if you guys are giving a cent to the jackass penguins.”
We weren’t. But as long as she didn’t know what was in half of those penguins, I didn’t care. “Charity work is all part of the frat gig.” I was the real fucking charity.
She snorted, and fuck me for finding it cute when I was so annoyed with her. “So, you chose penguins?” she asked. “Not kids in impoverished communities. Or cancer research?” Because I’d been the victim of both, and she knew it. “Neither you nor Rogue give a shit about penguins. You are, however, a hustler.”
Cassie’s gaze pinged between Jade, the penguin in her hand, and me. “Wait. What are you talking about?”
Monroe deadpanned Cassie. “Tell me you did not think your fuck buddy cared about waddling birds.”
“What, so, they’re just keeping the money?”
I knew there wasn’t much going on between her ears, but Jesus. It was like she didn’t know Rogue at all.
Jade glanced at her friends. “What have I told you? Bad boys and reprobates, Cass.” She shook her head. “Come on. We have class, and Wolf has gullible cheerleaders to convince he’s such a nice, penguin-loving guy.”
Cheerleaders to convince. For some reason, that burned my grits.
Clenching my teeth, I shot them a bird when they turned around and headed in the direction of the mathematics building.
I sold a few more penguins—one to the dean. Just when I reached to restock the table, my phone dinged with a text from Rogue.
I don’t think I’m coming back anytime soon. I’m shitting my life out right now.
And I was hating mine.
The day didn’t get any better. Megan’s bippity-boppity ass stopped by the table just as I packed up. She followed me all the way to my biology class, where I was passed a paper I’d made a D on. Why the hell did I need to know about mitochondrial DNA anyway? Then, during our afternoon scrimmage, one of our star players managed to fracture his shoulder. That lowered our chances of winning against Tech. The only silver lining to that day? I hadn’t eaten that stupid breakfast.