Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 108846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Her offer is a lifeline—a rope tossed over the edge of a cliff with me clinging to the only jagged rock. “Thank you.” And I truly mean it.
“Don’t thank me yet. I hope you’re ready. These next two weeks are going to be painfully long and especially rough.”
Just how you like it, Belinda.
With an almost friendly pat against my shoulder, she goads, “Come on. Let’s get started.”
45. Sloane
“Who are we scoping out tonight?”
I jump as Rebel swoops in, pressing my phone to my chest to hide the screen. “No one.”
“Uh-huh.” She sets the filled cooler in the sand and then, fishing out bottles of Sapporo, passes one each to me and Skye before settling into a chair. The ritual of finishing our summer nights out by the oat grass, with a fire crackling and the soothing sounds of crashing waves from the nearby darkness, is a longstanding one. Another tradition from Gigi that’s stuck through the years. Any Sea Witch staffer is welcome to pull up a seat and unwind, and many accept the invitation. On any given night, we’ll have eight to ten people here, occasionally with someone busting out a guitar. If we’re lucky, Frank will bring out his ukulele.
“Okay, spill,” Skye pushes.
Right now, it’s just the three of us, which is why I’m willing to hold my phone to show them the candid close-up of Ronan from the Wolf wedding. I found it after going down a deep and sordid rabbit hole that led me to the photographer—a French artist famously known for taking close-ups of the female anatomy, mid orgasm. To say I didn’t know things like that existed—and that people pay small fortunes for the invasive pleasure of this Joel pervert—is an understatement. Rich people are weird.
She squints. “Ooh, is that the hot guy who came in looking for you last week?”
“Yeah.” Exactly one week ago, the same day that we had sex and then he ran out of my house like he couldn’t get away from me fast enough. I haven’t seen him since. Not a phone call, not an appearance at the coffee shop. Not even a text. Vanished like he never existed.
I guess Ronan got everything he wanted.
And I got what I expected. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me, that I hadn’t held on to a shade of hope that Ronan would be different from all the others. And then I remember his reaction when I asked him not to say anything, how he chuckled, and swore the last thing he would ever want to admit to is fucking me.
I still can’t believe I let him inside me without a condom. After I found out about Cody cheating, I swore I would never allow it again. But with Ronan, there was no thinking involved. I lost all control and sensibility.
“Are you two hooking up?” Skye asks.
“No.” It comes out too harsh, so I amend my tone to add, “There’s nothing there.”
A glance flickers between them.
“I don’t want anything to do with him,” I declare with conviction. “He’s a senior manager at Wolf.” He probably has Henry Wolf on speed dial.
“No shit. How’d you find that out?” Rebel asks.
“He mentioned it,” I say vaguely, tossing a warning glance at Skye. She’s the only one who knows I crashed the job fair, but she doesn’t know the devil’s deal I made.
“He’s hot, Sloane,” Rebel says. “Like, really fucking hot.”
“Yeah. I’m aware.” A twinge of jealousy stirs in my stomach as these two fawn over Ronan. How many other women are doing the same, over at that hotel? He’ll screw them too, I’m sure. “He’s also a giant dick.” Who happens to possess a giant dick.
“Why? What’d he do?” Skye is pouting like this news personally offends her.
“Look who decided to grace us with his presence.”
Frank appears from the darkness to save me from this interrogation, his arms loaded with wood and Rolland trailing behind him.
Frank wasn’t kidding when he called the kid scrawny. He’s like a newborn giraffe, all knobs and limbs. The obscenely baggy T-shirts he wears hide the protruding ribs I caught a glimpse of one afternoon while he was wiping his sweaty brow. But he’s quiet and he tries, and he hasn’t quit yet, which is all I care about at this point.
“Welcome, cutie!” Rebel beams up at the lanky kid as she reaches into the cooler and fishes out a beer.
“Uh …” He looks from it to me to Frank, reminding us that he’s only eighteen and, according to the little he’s spoken about his family to Frank, was raised in an ultra-strict household.
“I’m not your mother.” Frank drops the load of wood with a clatter. “But you better sleep in one of the empty trailers if you have too many.”
“Just one.” Rolland collects the beer from Rebel with a thanks, his flushed cheeks noticeable even in the fire’s glow as he takes an empty seat on the other side of Skye. They turn their interrogation on him, saving me from having to lie about Ronan.