Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 163089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 815(@200wpm)___ 652(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 815(@200wpm)___ 652(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
His thumb presses on the line of my throat where it meets my collarbone, and I swallow against it, my ears ringing.
A flash of something intimate and ancient and prickling darkens his eyes as he stares down at me, his voice lowering to a raw range. “I don’t like it when others look at what’s mine, Preston. What belongs to me is for my eyes only, do you understand?”
“You’re acting as if I’m walking around naked,” I whisper. “It’s just a fucking collarbone.”
He shakes his head once. “It’s all of you.”
That stupid, inexplicable thing happens again in my chest—a sort of nonsensical movement that makes it hard to breathe.
“Heey!” Miley skates to our side. “What’s taking you so long?”
All the noise of our environment slides back in, harsh and jarring. The sound of skates on ice, the laughter and endless chatter.
I totally forgot about all the people surrounding us as this asshole dragged me into his web of madness.
I push him away and his hand drops from my throat, leaving a flush of heat in its wake. “I told you we’re strangers in public. Go away.”
His eyes narrow slightly, but then he smiles at Miley, who stops next to us, then glances at me. “Who says I’m here for you?”
“Come on, let me teach you.” My sister whirls with an attitude bigger than her tiny body. “I don’t have all day.”
Marcus, the asshole, casts a fleeting glance at me, then takes her outstretched hand. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, princess. Lead the way.”
She grins and drags him to the middle, her wings flying behind her.
Is this piece of shit really going to ignore me and pretend he’s here for Miley? He obviously stalked me.
I stand in place, my arms crossed, and yup, he’s totally into whatever gibberish she’s telling him—mirroring her movements and everything.
Since when does he even have the patience for kids? Listen, I love Miley, but she’s my sister, so that’s a given. Other kids, however, should stay the hell away from me.
She’s not Marcus’s sister, though, and he has zero need to indulge her. He’s obviously low on the empathy radar, and he has no patience whatsoever sometimes. He certainly seems to be ticked off by everything I do or say lately.
And yet he’s currently tolerating Miley’s constant yapping, as if she’s competing for how many words she can say in one breath.
I frown when he smiles at her, his expression soft, and that chronic pain in my chest sinks in deeper. What the fuck?
It’s almost as if…I’m jealous of my sister because he smiled at her like he never smiles at me.
Fuck the hell out of this shit.
That is not true under any circumstances.
“Preston?”
I turn sideways at the very familiar, irritating voice. And it’s none other than Dove—sorry, Daphne.
You know, the one Kane is dating and apparently not breaking up with anytime soon.
Anyway, she chose about the worst time to show her pretty face, because I don’t want her here while Marcus is.
Like at all.
And she’s wearing this cute little off-white knit dress with sexy stockings.
Better call Kane so he can come collect his girlfriend ASAP.
“Who are you again?” I say in my usual devil-may-care tone, purposefully standing in a way that blocks her view of Marcus dancing with my sister on the ice.
“Very funny. Ha. Ha,” she mocks, then frowns. “What are you doing here?”
“Skating, in case you have sight issues. Any other questions, Dropbox?”
“It’s Dahlia! And Dropbox isn’t even a D name.”
“That’s right. I’m downgrading you.” I make a motion with my hand. “Now, shoo, DoorDash. Go climb Kane or do whatever you kids do on the regular.”
“He’s meeting me here.”
Double fuck.
I need to grab Miles of Trouble and get the hell out of here before Kane shows up, or he’ll have a lot of questions I don’t have answers to.
Questions I don’t want to hear or think about or fucking process.
But how do I retrieve Miley without my sister yapping about everything or Dracula here noticing Marcus’s impossible-to-miss presence?
“Couldn’t pick another place to practice your niche religion of taming Davenport?” I ask. “Also, where’s Vee? I much prefer your sister to you.”
“Well, thanks for the vote of confidence.” She huffs. “And Vi doesn’t like skating;”
“Well, that sucks.”
Violet, Duchess’s foster sister, and the Sleeping Beauty Jude was stalking, is one of the best things in my life lately. She’s warm and nice, and I feel a sense of familiarity around her.
And, of course, she didn’t date Marcus. Unlike her sister.
I peek behind me, but Marcus and Miley aren’t where I left them.
My skin prickles, static filling my ears as panic floods my throat.
No.
Miley…no.
I only looked away for a second, she couldn’t have possibly been taken away.
What if she were? What if someone hurts her, and it’s my fucked-up story all over again? What if—