Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Clicking his tongue, he sighs. “Instead, it looks like I’m going to have to be a witness against you.”
Like I need things to get any worse.
14
EASTON
I can stand a lot of things that bug the shit out of other people.
There were times when I’ve actually wondered if there’s something missing inside me. Like there’s a gene that makes people better at putting themselves in other people’s shoes, and I was born without it. It’s never been something I’m good at—and it’s not something I have tried to work on, either. I figure either you’re born that way or you’re not.
But when a girl starts crying? And I don’t mean fake tears or over-the-top emotion. I’m talking watery eyes, a trembling chin, and bonus points if it’s obvious she’s trying like hell to hold everything in.
I really wish Emma’s chin wouldn’t tremble the way it is right now as she stares at the scratches she left in Brittany’s paint. It’s not even that bad, really. I’m sure she could get it fixed in no time.
But Brittany’s not somebody who rolls with the punches, the way Dad says. She thrives on drama. It’s the whole reason she and Tiana get along. These girls think they’re the main character in everybody’s story.
And when they find somebody to hate, they don’t change their minds.
Which is why, after she finishes taking one million pictures, she gets in Emma’s face. “How did you even do that? Are you stupid? Did you even pass your driver’s test? I want to see your license. I want to know for sure you’re even allowed on the road.”
“Insurance card, too,” Tiana adds, wearing a look I would love to smack off her face if I believed in hitting women. She’s so fucking smug. So superior.
“When did this turn into a traffic stop?” I ask with a laugh. Maybe it will help ease the tension.
It doesn’t. “I’m sorry, is this any of your business?” Tiana asks me before scoffing and holding a hand close to my face. “Back the fuck up, okay?”
See, there’s the problem. I really might have kept out of this. I might have felt bad later, but I would’ve kept my mouth shut. For once, something happened, and I had nothing to do with it. I’m only a bystander.
But then she had to go and do that. Sticking her hand in my face. Like it’s not bad enough I already can’t stand the bitch—she makes it her life’s mission to be a nasty bully and there isn’t a guy I know she hasn’t tried to suck or fuck, even when they weren’t interested.
Now I need to step in, if only to smack her down. And she’s going to be sorry for sticking her hand anywhere near me.
“You know, Britt…” Stepping back, I squint and tip my head to the side. “Now that I’m standing here looking at this, it’s obvious.”
“What is obvious?” she asks. I doubt she could sound more bored if she tried. She won’t be bored for long.
“What are you doing?” Emma whispers. There is so much dread in that question, it’s almost funny. She’ll be thanking me in a minute or two.
“Do you want my help, or don’t you?” I mutter. “You owe me.”
Then, I turn to Brittany and point to her car. “You’re parked way too far out of the space. You should’ve backed up further. It’s amazing nobody hit you before now.”
“What? You’re full of shit.” Her head snaps back before she laughs. “Why don’t you just get out of here? This has nothing to do with you.”
Then why is Tiana here? No, I’m not suicidal. I won’t bother asking that question—we’ll be here all day, and I’ll wish for an ice pick to jam in my ears. “That’s fine,” I reply with a shrug while I pull my phone from my pocket. “But since we’re taking pictures, I’m going to take a few of my own.”
“Why?” she almost screeches while I start snapping pics.
“Just to document a few things. Like your position here and how you’re sticking out into the main aisle where cars go by.” Before she can say anything, I walk around to the back of her car and take more shots. “There’s like a mile of space between your rear bumper and the line. Do you know that?”
“Get out of here!” Tiana takes a swipe at me like she wants to knock the phone out of my hand, and I’m actually proud of how I manage to keep it together when what I’d like to do involves watching her ass hit the pavement.
“What are you trying to do? Break my phone?” I laugh, holding it out of her reach. “Do you think it would be expensive to fix that paint job? Wait until you get a bill for my brand-new phone.”