Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 100294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
It’s hormones. That’s all. Nothing more.
Chapter Twelve
LUKE
Ichug back my beer before grabbing another one. It’s hard not to follow Madeline when she heads back into the house. I don’t know why I fucking care. Who gives a shit if she knows I’m staring?
This girl and the things she does to my head are fucking me up. I pull out my phone and text her. I have blackmail over her, but she doesn’t care. She continues to do things to piss me off.
“Where would they go?” Grant asks.
“Who?” I take another long pull of my beer.
“You know who. Wasn’t it only a couple of days ago you didn’t want me to say her name, and now you’re asking me who?”
“Whatever.” A tray of shots comes by, and I grab two off and shoot them back. I already have a buzz.
I don’t want Grant saying her name. I don’t want anyone saying it. It’s an irrational thought, but I can blame it on the booze for tonight. I start heading up the stone stairs that wrap around the side of the house and up to the back deck where she’d been standing with Georgia.
“Trying to ditch me?” Grant jogs to catch up.
“Why are you following me?”
“I want to know where they went.”
“They?” I cock a brow at him.
“The bonfire?” Grant nods toward the east side of the home where there is a giant patch of land. Someone started a fire, and people are all minding their own business. Those legs of hers make her easy to spot. “Where’s curls?”
“Georgia?” That’s the second time he’s asked about her. “You got a thing for her?”
“What do you care?” He’s got me there. “She’s not with her.” No, Madeline is talking to a couple of girls I don’t recognize. They could have come from another school. She’s always chatty with people, but she can’t respond to a damn text.
It’s really starting to piss me off. Maybe I should send the video to her sister. It’s a dick thing to do, but maybe she’ll think I’m serious then. I’m sure her sister would be pissed. She’s a goody two-shoes.
“Luke, you’re buzzed,” Grant says as I head toward the bonfire. Madeline sees me coming and turns away to ignore me. She’s trying to ruffle my feathers, and she’s succeeding. The only good thing about her not facing me is I get to take her in. My eyes are eating up every inch of her legs and her perfectly round ass. My mouth waters to bite it. What the actual fuck? Did I really just think that?
Lana steps into my path, blocking my perfect view. “Hey there.” I don’t respond; I just stare down at her, annoyed at the interruption. I close one eye and open it again.
“Are your lips growing?”
“What?” Lana’s face scrunches. “Why do you have to always be a dick?” She licks her lips.
“Why are you always trying to get on my dick?”
“If I wanted on your dick, Luke”—she places her hand on my chest—“then I would be.”
“Get your fucking hand off me,” I grit out. My father always had women coming and going from the house. There had been a few that had tried to get inappropriate with me. I have always appeared older than I am, but they knew. They just didn’t care. At first, they’d play up this motherly role, and then it would progress.
“Holy crap, chill.” She drops her hand. “Why are you always like this? I never did anything.” Lana’s life is all about making other people’s lives hell. I suppose we have that in common. It seems that her home life may not be as perfect as she tries to portray.
“Lana—”
“Well, I’ve never done anything to you.”
“What you could do is get me a beer.” Lana’s fat lips press together. It makes me want to itch my own.
“Fine.” She forces a smile onto her face. “Maybe that can be our truce.” I don’t know what the fuck that means, but I don’t care either as long as I get my beer.
The sound of Madeline’s laughter pulls my attention back to her. Now Grant is talking to her. Quick little opportunistic shit.
“We need to talk,” I tell Madeline. I glare at Grant to fuck off.
“Then talk.” She stares up at me, and I can see her annoyance.
“I’m not sure you want to do that in front of everyone,” I warn.
“Got your drink.” Lana shoves the beer between Madeline and me. I take it.
“We should talk later,” Madeline says dismissively.
“We’ll talk now.”
“Luke.” Lana says my name, trying to get my attention.
“Yeah, Luke, Lana is talking to you.” Madeline smirks, then the little brat plucks my beer from my hand and takes a long pull from it.
“Come,” I say, grabbing her bicep, making sure not to do it too hard.
“Seriously?” She growls at me but doesn’t fight or try to jerk from my hold.