Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
I couldn't deny the flutter of excitement I had when I first spotted him in the parking lot earlier. I hadn’t realized how much I was anticipating seeing him. That’s a bold-faced lie. I’d made sure to take a little extra time this morning getting ready, knowing damn well he would be exactly where he had been every day the year before. He's always there, standing with his brother, leaning against his car. The two of them could be mistaken for bodyguards and not high schoolers.
Both of them are tall, like really freaking tall, which is nice. I have always towered over everyone. A lot of boys aren't into that. They can’t stand when a girl is taller, but Jax, I can’t see him having that issue. For one, if you talked shit to him, you’d get more than hit. Second, he’d tell you to fuck off.
Damon is maybe an inch or two shorter, but he’s built broad, whereas Jax is this perfect male specimen. I'd know because I've seen him on the football field during practice, and he's taken his shirt off more than a few times.
He's got all these abs and hardbody lines. I might have doodled them once into one or maybe two of my notebooks. Okay, three, but football practices are long, and I still have to write posts and articles on the team, so really, I'm keeping busy doing my job.
It’s his eyes, though, that always get me. The darkness of the blue reminds me of the deepest part of the ocean you can see before everything turns pitch-black. I swear I can feel his eyes on me like a physical touch most days.
I know it’s all a coincidence, but a girl can dream. I bet every female in this place feels that way. In reality, he is merely assessing everything and everyone. I can’t judge. I do the same, but I think for very different reasons.
It’s not as though Jax has ever tried to talk to me beyond a few words in passing. We do, after all, have classes together. He doesn’t talk to any of the females here, from what I’ve taken note of. Not that I’ve observed, anyway. He sticks to hanging out with his family or male friends from the team. I know for sure he hasn’t dated anyone at Golden Prep. There is no way anyone here would be able to keep that secret for long.
It should embarrass me a bit how much I know about Jax’s dating history. Or lack thereof, but it doesn’t. A girl has to know these things. When it’s time to write a story, there is nothing worse than getting the details wrong.
I enter the classroom and head toward the back right corner. It gives you a view of the whole room. There are lab-style tables with two seats at each desk. Nick, who is on the football team, is already in the chair next to the one I’m claiming.
Nick gives me a smirk, his expression knowing. I do take the corner seat in every room if I can, but I didn't think anyone noticed, especially Nick. I drop down into the chair next to him as Jax and his brother enter the room. I shouldn’t be surprised. We end up in a lot of the same classes. I grab my notebook and pen, pretending to be highly interested in it and not in Damon and Jax.
Jax heads toward the back of the room, too, and toward me. I think he’s going to take the lab table next to ours since both seats there are empty, but he doesn't. He keeps drawing closer.
I glance up at him, expecting him and Nick to have some kind of conversation because he's not stopping to talk to me. Instead, Nick simply stands, goes to the empty table, and sits in that chair, where Damon joins him. Then Jax drops into the seat Nick vacated. What the heck?
"Morning," he says to me, polite but short. That is his norm. What isn't normal is him taking this seat when he could be sitting with his brother. I mean, sure, he's still next to him on the other side, but it's a different table, and we might end up partnered for a project.
"Hi," I respond. "You good?" Not sure why I ask the question. I mean, I know it's because this is strange, but asking Jax a question will only get me a useless response. So the question is pointless. I might as well have kept my mouth shut. He's going to think I'm in his fan club and want to get into his pants.
“Oh, I’m good, Bunny.” Jax gives me a half smile, revealing his perfectly straight teeth. I can feel that damn smile all the way down to my toes. Wait, what did he call me?