Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 134665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
“The three of us should get together soon.” She breaks through my thoughts.
“Three of us?” I ask.
“You, me, and Demi.”
“Why?” I can’t help but wonder. “We never hung out with her back in Collins.”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. She just seems … sad. Maybe she didn’t want to move here.”
“She didn’t have a choice.” My mother decided that when I was moving to Texas so was Demi. She hates me for that, but I don’t give a fuck.
“Then it’s settled. We’ll all get together. Maybe have a girls’ night.”
Like Cole would allow her to do that, but I nod. Hell will freeze over before I’ll have a girls’ night with my sister.
Placing my head against the window, I think back to the day Cole decided it was time for me to pay up. My payment could have been much worse than the woman sitting beside me.
I stand in the kitchen of the Reynolds’ house. Cole is throwing a party tonight during Christmas break before we all go back to school in a few days. I was tired of being holed up in my father’s house. I’ve avoided Cole since he wrapped his hand around my throat months ago, telling me I owed him. I knew Deke was going to be here tonight, and I need to talk to him. See him. I take a drink and set my cup down when I hear my phone go off. I open it up to see I have a text from Cole, and my stomach drops.
Cole: Ready?
I begin to type out what do you mean but delete it. Instead, I settle on just a question mark.
Me: ?
Cole: A friend of mine is coming tonight. You would make a great friend for her too.
Her?
Me: You don’t have any girls who are friends.
Who the fuck is he talking about? Cole isn’t like the rest of the GWS. He doesn’t hang all over girls. He doesn’t even speak to them. He only shows interest once he decides he wants to fuck you. And then after you spread your legs for him, he moves on. The girls always try to get more out of him, but it never works.
Cole: Her name is Austin. Brunette. Green eyes. Probably wearing something red. Text me when she gets here.
Austin? Who the hell is that? Collins isn’t a big town, but it’s also not tiny. Who the hell is she, and why does he want to know when she arrives?
Me: And why do you want to know that?
Cole: It’s time to pay up!
Fuck!
I take another sip and then pour myself a new one. Pay up? How the hell am I going to pay up with a girl named Austin? What could he possibly want me to do?
I’m downing it when I catch sight of a brunette entering the kitchen. She’s wearing a red sweater that hangs off one shoulder, showcasing a black tank top underneath it with black skinny jeans and matching heels. Her dark hair curls down her back. I’ve never seen her before, so it has to be her. She picks up a red Solo cup and pours some Fireball into it before tossing it back. Then she pours another one. No one seems to notice her, letting me know that no one else knows her either.
I take out my phone and text him.
Me: She’s here. Kitchen.
He reads it but doesn’t respond. I take a deep breath and walk over to her, needing to know as much as I can about her before he comes down here. “Hi.”
“Hello,” she says with a nod of her head. She’s pretty, but I can’t say she’s Cole’s type ’cause he really doesn’t have one.
“I’ve never seen you here before.” I hold out my right hand. “I’m Becky.”
“Austin. And I just moved here.”
How the fuck does she know Cole? “Oh, how exciting,” I lie and grab a new Solo cup. “Are you going to Collins High?” She looks about my age.
“Yep.”
This doesn’t make any sense. Maybe his dad is dating someone, and this is her daughter, but even I know that’s reaching. His father doesn’t really date anyone around here. He just fucks them all. “I’m a senior. How about you?” I pry.
“Same,” she answers and pours herself another shot.
“I wonder if we’ll have any classes together.” Even though I don’t know her, it would be nice to have a clean slate. To make a new friend who doesn’t really know the real me.
“Who the hell throws a party on a Monday?” she asks, avoiding my previous statement.
“Cole Reynolds.” I roll my eyes when I answer, trying to feel her out. I pause to see if she says anything about him, but she doesn’t. So I add, “He and the Great White Sharks do whatever they want, whenever they want.” I give her a fake smile. Fuck the sharks. Well, all but Deke. “But they do throw some awesome parties.”