Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 96957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Slade relinquished three full blinks.
After nervously scraping my teeth along my lower lip for a few seconds, I lifted a shoulder. “So … thanks for letting him hang out with me. I don’t know why you did it, but I’m grateful to you for … well … whatever the reason.”
Did you kill that man? Did you? Why did you? Tell me! Say something!
Slade nodded once, flipped his mask down over his face, and started his torch again. I wanted to ask what he was doing or making or fixing. I wanted to ask him so many things, but I decided to quit before the cops were called. He wasn’t going to give me everything in one day. That much was clear.
So … I decided to wait. After all, I knew he hadn’t ripped anyone’s arm from their body or tongue from their mouth. He surfed and had perfect taste in gum flavors. That was enough for one day.
Chapter Six
If I was home alone, Jericho was perched at the door. How did he know—either Jericho or Slade—that I was alone? It was both incredibly comforting and oddly frightening. The man who had spoken less than twenty words to me seemed to know a lot about my whereabouts and that of my roommates.
More than that … he knew I needed protection.
This went on for weeks. Every day I tried to get the nerve to ask that unanswered question. Did he kill that man?
Slade went from vigilante to total enigma in a matter of a month.
“Coffee?” I stepped over his legs to sit next to him in class, something I hadn’t done since the day he threatened my tongue. “Or tea?” I eased into the chair, trying to not spill either hot drink. “I’m good with either. You just come across as a coffee person. I’ll set it by your feet. So don’t knock it over.” I placed the cup by his black-booted foot.
“No worries, Jerry. I didn’t forget about you.” I retrieved a dehydrated duck neck from the Barkery bag in the side pocket of my backpack and leaned my torso over Slade’s lap to hand it to Jericho.
His lethal glare hadn’t eased up much since our first encounter, but he managed to hold his tongue and the disturbing threats I knew sat on the end of it, waiting to intimidate me. After Jericho took the treat, I slowly lifted my chest from Slade’s legs, resting my hand on his thigh to steady myself as his gaze ensnared me in a bubble of something so intoxicating my lips had to part to find my next breath.
“You smell good,” I whispered, not meaning to say the words aloud. When his gaze shifted to my hand on his leg, I lifted it slowly in a silent “oops” as if I didn’t mean to touch him. Our eyes remained locked in place for several moments like an unbreakable trance.
And … I said it.
The words tumbled softly from my lips, yet desperately from the pit of my stomach. “Did you save me from that man?”
Slade’s lack of any sort of reaction did nothing to answer my question. And before I could press him more for an answer, the professor started to speak. Ten minutes before the end of the class, Slade made his usual early departure, but not before leaning down and snatching the coffee to take with him. It put a huge smile on my face.
Twenty minutes later, I arrived at my tree for my morning nap, but a dark, sexy guy and his dog were in my spot.
“I realize you’ve been off campus for a few years.” I dropped my bag on the opposite side of the tree. “But during that time, I made claim to this tree. It’s common knowledge, like the house you’re living in is haunted. However, since I kinda love Jerry, I’ll share the shade with you two.”
If Slade’s chest hadn’t been rising and falling, I would have thought he was dead. Eyes closed. Hands resting at his sides. Jericho smiled at me, and I winked at him, digging a pear out of my bag. I started to take a seat on the opposite side of the tree but feeling a little more confident than I did during our last tree encounter, I took a seat right next to Jericho and shared my pear with him.
“We’re not friends,” Slade said without so much as peeking open one eye.
I bit off a piece of my pear and fed it to Jericho, leaning over and kissing his soft, erect ear. “That’s fine. Jerry’s my friend. And he’s infinitely more awesome than any man I have ever been friends with.”
“Jericho.”
Ignoring his correction, I took several more bites from the pear and offered the rest to Jericho. “I’m from San Francisco. Where are you from? Here?”