Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 160041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
“What the—”
He grins. “So we can cut up the limbs.”
I grimace. “Are you out of your mind?”
“You’re the one who killed a cop.”
He sways that damn thing around like it’s a weapon, so I snatch it out of his hands and chuck it in the back seat. “Are you trying to kill me too?”
“I don’t know. Depends if you keep doing dumb things that could get us into big trouble.”
“You inserted yourself into my business,” I grit.
“I made it my business because her happiness is my business,” he retorts.
“Why do you care so much what she thinks?”
“Because I’m infatuated. Duh.”
He rolls his eyes like it’s not a big deal, but my blood pressure is already through the roof.
“I just killed a guy because she kissed him. Do you think it’s a smart idea to admit that to me?” I crack my knuckles.
If I didn’t already have one body lying in the back of my trunk, I’d strangle him with my bare hands for even insinuating he likes her.
He leans his temple against his fist. “Yes. Maybe you’ll kill me too, and then it’s a win-win for me.” The smile that follows creeps me the fuck out. “So are you going to kill me or not? There’s a saw in the back. I’m waiting.”
This guy is absolutely out of his mind. “No.” I start the car. “I’m not gonna give you more pleasure.”
“Pity … I was looking forward to getting pleasured by you.”
What the—
He grabs my gear handle right when I do too, and when our hands touch, I immediately retract my hand while a blush spreads on my cheeks.
“Watch it.”
“Just helping out,” he muses, shrugging. “After you.”
“I know how to drive,” I say, grinding my teeth.
This fucker is pissing me off, but I don’t fucking understand why. Besides the fact that he’s always getting in my way.
He smiles. “Of course. I’m just here for the ride. Don’t mind me.”
I look him up and down, as his bathrobe seems awfully loose. “Are you even wearing anything under that?”
“Wanna see?” He peels away the left part, leaving nothing to the imagination as his pristine abs, along with his thin sweatpants underneath, are revealed, and I immediately look away.
“You can look if you want. I don’t mind.”
“I’m fine, thanks,” I retort as I try to focus on the road while we head toward the overgrown Spine Ridge U gates.
“You sure? You seem flustered.”
“I’m not,” I say, trying not to look while also glancing at him to let him know I don’t give a shit. “Dress how you want. I don’t care.”
“But you do. Clearly.”
While we drive through the gates, I throw a haphazard smile at one of the officers stationed outside and swiftly drive off. “It’s cold out there.”
“Aw … you care if I’m cold now? How sweet,” he muses.
“I don’t. You’re not dressed for what we’re about to do.”
“Then how do you want me to dress?”
As we drive down the mountain, I take another glance. “It would help if you didn’t go out to bury a body in a pair of sweatpants and a robe.”
“Fine. I’ll take it off.”
He begins slipping his arms through the fabric, and I immediately lunge at him to keep his abs tucked away. “Don’t!”
Panicking, I firmly yank the steering wheel to stop us from driving straight into the wall. “Jesus.”
“Maybe you should keep your eyes on the road instead of my abs.”
“You don’t say.” I scoff.
“What is it with you and my abs anyway?”
“There’s nothing,” I retort. “Nothing at all.”
“Right …” He keeps looking at me from the side like he’s suspicious of me, and I don’t like it one bit. “Tell me you’re having gay panic without telling me you’re having gay panic.”
I scowl at him. “What are you on?”
“Nothing. I’m simply stating facts. It’s obvious, and you can’t handle it.” He’s biting his finger, and it’s pissing me off.
I roll my eyes and kick the gear up so I can race down the mountain faster and we can get this over with. “In your dreams.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
“I’m only interested in one person,” I say.
“Yeah, you’ve made that abundantly clear to yourself.”
Always trying to egg me on.
“What is your problem?”
He folds his arms, ample pecs pushing out through the robe, even beyond his thick biceps, and I don’t know why I notice, but I do. “You are. You pretend you’re not interested in being my friend, yet you keep gawking at me like you’re going to slur your words.”
“Can you just shut up for one second?”
“No. Not when you keep avoiding my questions.”
“We have a dead man in my trunk, and you’re arguing with me about whether I’m looking at your man-titties.”
He snorts. “Yes. It’s called having priorities.”
“You’re ridiculous. You know that, right?”
“No, but thank you for the compliment.”
“It wasn’t one.”
“I’m taking it as such.”
Fuck this dude.