The Coldest Winter Read Online Brittainy C. Cherry

Categories Genre: College, Contemporary, Forbidden, New Adult Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 114368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
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For the first time that hour, I felt discomfort from Starlet. Her ochre-colored eyes were so soft, so gentle that they pissed me off. She stared at me as if she felt pity for me. I didn’t need a person’s pity. Most of the time, all I needed was to be left alone.

In our game of stare, I failed by looking away first. I didn’t particularly appreciate how her misplaced care made me uncomfortable.

After the school day ended, I packed my things and headed to the local library to meet Starlet for our session. I picked a study room toward the back and slumped in the chair. I waited for a while, and my irritation built over time. We were coming from the same damn place. How was she late?

“Sorry, sorry,” she muttered, entering the study room. The moment I saw her, I sat straighter. An odd sensation washed over me that I didn’t recognize. Was that…excitement? Was it pleasure from seeing her show up? Or maybe just gas in the pit of my gut. Maybe I had to take a shit. Hard to tell, seeing how I hardly knew how feelings worked. All I knew was the discomfort was annoying as hell.

She pulled out the chair across from me, still talking. “I had to stop by the principal’s office to talk to him about the tutoring and—”

“Already looking for a reason to quit?” I cut in.

I wouldn’t blame her.

I knew a lost cause when I saw one, too.

She narrowed her eyes, confused. “What? No. I had to gather the books from your classes to keep up and ensure we were on the same page across the board.”

Oh.

Right.

“And we are, right?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. “We’re on the same page, correct?”

“Are you talking about school or about us fucking?”

Her full lips slightly parted as her jaw dropped. She shook her head. “Both. I’m talking about both, Milo. And please don’t say it like that. It makes me feel dirty.”

“You are a very dirty girl.”

“Milo,” she yipped.

I shifted in my chair. “You’re uncomfortable with me.”

“Yes. Especially when you say things like that and stare at me during class.”

“Can’t help it. You’re up there.”

“Yes, but…” She glanced around the library and sighed. “Did you mean it when you said you wouldn’t tell anyone what happened between us?”

“Why wouldn’t I mean that?”

“Because I don’t know…you seem…I don’t know…” She tugged her ponytail tighter. “I don’t know how you seem. I don’t know you. I don’t know what to expect, or the type of person you are, or if you’d use that against me somehow if I piss you off or—”

“You think I’m mischievous and conniving.”

Her doe eyes widened, and she shook her head. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“It’s what you’re thinking.”

“I…” Her words faltered.

It irritated me that she thought those things about me. She didn’t even know me. She was judging my book by its cover, but if she had any sense, she would’ve looked harder and realized I didn’t give a shit about shit enough to be conniving or sinister toward a person. Yet her unease about me did tick me off slightly.

I hated this new realization, too. Most people didn’t get under my skin, yet for some reason, Starlet was effortlessly doing so.

What’s the deal with you, woman?

Why do you bother me so damn much?

I shifted in my chair and brushed my thumb against the base of my jaw. “Guess you’ll just have to be on your best behavior, huh?”

A flash of panic hit her stare.

Almost felt bad about that, too.

“That’s not fair,” she whispered.

“Life’s not fair. Welcome to the party,” I replied. “Are you going to teach me something, or are you going to sit here and think about the night my tongue was so deep inside you that you came multiple times?”

Her jaw dropped, and tears flooded her stare.

“Not again with the crying. It was a damn joke. Don’t tell me you’re that sensitive,” I grumbled but instantly felt bad. Her emotions did something to me that made me just as uncomfortable as I’d made her. A part of me wanted to soothe her nerves and wash them away because I wanted her to be relaxed. Why did I care about her comfort? She was supposed to be a distraction for me, a thing that kept me from thinking too much about my depressive state. Yet whenever she almost cried, my chest ached. It ate me alive that I was also the cause behind her pained expression. I knew I was an asshole, but I wasn’t that big of an ass. At least, I didn’t want to be.

“I am that sensitive,” she expressed. “And it wasn’t funny. This is my life, Milo. You’re messing with my life.”

“Wrong. Your nerves are messing with your life. And forgive me for taking offense that you think I’d hold that shit over your head to get what I want. I told you I’m a dick, but I’m not that big of a dick. Don’t worry, Starlet. I’m not here to ruin your life. I’m just trying to graduate.” That was true, too, because graduation meant I’d get a letter from Mom. That was the only endgame I had in mind.


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