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)
We passed the football field on our way off campus. I couldn’t stop myself searching for Wolf’s hulking form among the players, but he was nowhere to be seen. Strange.
As if reading my thoughts, Monroe asked, “Did you hear about Wolf and Brent?”
I stiffened, already knowing I wasn’t going to like whatever came out of her mouth.
“Oh, yeah.” Cassie leaned forward. “Brent took a swing at Wolf.”
My gaze snapped over my shoulder to her. “What?” She was the biggest gossip I knew, but she’d conveniently forgotten to mention that before right now.
“Uh-huh.” A wide grin pulled at her lips. “Can you imagine? Who knew Brent had the balls? Good for Wolf, though.” She waved one hand in the air like a cheerleader’s celebratory wave.
Monroe put a finger on Cassie’s forehead and pushed her back with a disapproving frown. “Not good for Wolf. He got a game suspension for knocking Brent out.”
Jesus Christ. I thumped my head back against the headrest.
“Meh,” Cassie said. “If I were Wolf, I’d take the suspension to see the little prick bleed.”
I stared out the window for a moment, focusing on the dilapidated buildings that whizzed past the window. Why would Wolf do that? He’d gotten suspended…
I hated the stupid little sprig of hope that poked above the desecrated soil of my war-torn heart. The thought that maybe, just maybe, Wolf’s reaction had something to do with me. I almost laughed at the thought of two guys having a fight over me, though. Could I be any more self-absorbed?
“Yeah, well, rumor has it, there might be NFL scouts at the Tech game.”
I dragged a hand through my hair, hoping to God he hadn’t just screwed up an NFL shot.
“Guys will be guys.” Monroe patted my knee. “It’s not on you.”
“But you do think it has something to do with me?” I asked.
“Look.” Monroe glanced at me for a second before turning at the red light. “Brent is the guy you ran to when you broke up with Wolf—”
“I didn’t run to him. He was my friend, and he offered me a summer away from Dayton.”
Cassie snorted from the back. “However you spin that, Jade, Wolf will always see him as the guy who took his girl.”
“He didn’t take me!”
Wolf was the one who had changed his number. If not for that—no, if not for him dating Nora—I never would have looked at Brent as anything more than a friend. I glanced between the two of them.
“And it’s been a year and a half. Wolf definitely does not see me as his anything.”
“Doesn’t matter what the truth is. Testosterone zaps their brain cells.”
“She’s not wrong,” Monroe said, turning onto the main high street of Pikestown. “And just my two cents, but Wolf will always see you as his something. Some people, you just never get over.”
Her words made my heart clench in my chest. I didn’t want them to be true because if the last two days of living with Wolf had shown me anything, it was that I really wasn’t over him. I hoped that someday I would be, though. That I’d be able to walk through my hometown without seeing memories of him on every corner. I wanted to be able to think of him without an overwhelming sense of loss and guilt and pain.
My chest was still tight when Monroe pulled up outside the garage.
“Oh, I’m going back to Dayton next Friday if you want a ride.” Because it would be my weekend to see my parents. Monroe and I usually took turns driving.
“Thanks, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to go.” What, with Lord Fuckface stomping his little feet about chores and curfews and whatever else. “Rogue,” I said as a way of explanation.
“Okay. Well, let me know if you can.” She looked as pissed off about it as I felt, but there was nothing to be done about it.
I’d dug the hole. Now I had to lay in it.
“Thanks.” I got out and approached the shop owned by Brent’s cousin, Joe.
As much as I hated taking any help from that asshole, I didn’t have much choice if I wanted my car fixed for anything less than a small mortgage. And I wasn’t lowering myself to asking Wolf for help. Not like he offered any when I’d told him my car wouldn’t start. Too busy being an asshole about our stupid curfew. Whatever tentative olive branch of friendship I might have perceived after he’d saved me from the auction had been well and truly crushed. I wouldn’t ask and give him the satisfaction of telling me to fuck off.
The buzz of machinery and hum of the mechanic’s banter drifted out of the open garage bay, and I tried to push thoughts of Wolf from my mind, but the moment I stepped into the reception area, the scent of motor oil slapped me in the face. In high school, I’d spent plenty of weekends watching Wolf and the guys fiddle around beneath the hood of the cars they’d stolen. The memory of Wolf, shirtless and covered in grease, was still at the top of my spank bank. My own personal teenage poster, snapshotted in my mind. God, I needed to stop thinking about him.