Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 111676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
“You look like a cat burglar off Wish.” I took the empty gas tanks and dropped them onto the oil-stained concrete.
She unhooked the pump and shoved the nozzle into one of the cans. “I look hot.”
“As in sweaty? Yes. Very.” She must have been dying in that heat.
She flipped me off as gas glugged into the empty metal. “It’s my work attire.” In high school, Monroe had survived, like many in our hometown of Dayton, by stealing. Cars specifically.
“We’re not boosting his car…” Not like I hadn’t already considered it. I definitely could have done with the money, but we’d need someone shady to sell it to. With the new, crime-free leaf she’d turned over, Monroe didn’t know anyone here in Pikestown.
Besides, if I ever got desperate enough to steal a car, there were far less conspicuous ones, whose owner I hadn’t threatened with bodily harm, on video, less than twelve hours before. So, no, I wouldn’t be profiting off Brent’s beloved car, but I was going to torch it the same way he’d torched whatever sliver of trust I’d still had in men.
Just as I flipped the lid off the other canister, a shadow fell over me.
“What are you setting fire to now, pyro?”
My stomach bottomed out at the sound of that deep, achingly familiar voice. A voice I hadn’t heard for a year and a half.
By design, I hadn’t spoken to, or come face-to-face with, Wolf Brookes since we’d broken up—a miracle considering we came from the same hometown, went to the same college, and that he was best friends with Monroe’s fiancé.
My heart clenched in my chest, reminding me of its old wounds. Compared to those scars, Brent’s betrayal was nothing more than a scratch. A scratch Wolf was apparently there to rub salt into.
“Nothing,” Monroe said, her gaze briefly darting to me before it went back to Wolf.
I hated that she still worried about me being around him after all this time. That she knew I was so weak. Bracing my fragile heart, I turned toward the tall, dark, tattooed apparition of past regrets.
I took in his messy, dark hair, those deep-blue eyes that always seemed to see too much, and the dimple that sank into his cheek—when he smiled, another one mirrored it on the other side. I hadn’t seen him up close since the day I’d asked him for a break. Was it too much to hope that he’d magically become ugly? Or lost the ridiculous amount of muscle that had somehow, against the laws of physics, grown bigger? The material of the faded band T-shirt he’d had since high school was stretched so tight across his chest, it looked like it would rip open at any second. Wolf Brookes was still the most gorgeous guy I’d ever seen, and I despised myself for thinking it. I’d always thought that my attraction to him had been more than skin deep, that we’d had this connection… But there I was, hating him while wanting him. I was no better than the airheaded girls who’d always fawned over him.
“Come on.” He nodded toward the tanks at our feet. “What are you torching, Monroe?” Talking to her like I wasn’t even there. As though I were as inconsequential as I wished he could be to me.
“Nothing. Jade’s Jeep ran out of gas.”
My spine tensed when she mentioned my name. I didn’t want him to look at me.
His massive arms crossed his even more massive chest, and he flashed her a disbelieving smile. “Bullshit.”
“Fine.” The pump in Monroe’s hand clicked, and she put it back. “We’re torching a car. Happy?”
Glaring at her, I capped the canisters. The last thing I wanted was Wolf knowing my business.
When I went to lift the heavy tank, I swear my back popped right before it dropped to the ground with a clang.
“Women…” Wolf reached for the tank at my feet, his rough fingers brushing mine when he picked it up. I hated that he acted like I didn’t exist, even though I’d spent over a year doing the exact same thing to him.
When he turned away from me without a backward glance, that sense of worthlessness I’d been feeling since Brent’s actions last night grew, breaking through the bedrock I’d laid on top of my buried emotions. Fuck Brent. And fuck Wolf.
I glared after him as he bicep curled both tanks into Cassie’s open trunk. His sleeves strained beneath his stupid, muscular arms, and I wanted to shout at him, “Just buy a bigger shirt!”
Instead, I went to the rear door of Cassie’s car and got in. I’d rather sit in a sweatbox than give Wolf any more space in my mind.
“It was good to see you, Wolf,” Monroe called, before ducking into the passenger seat.
I clicked my seatbelt into place, then crossed my arms over my chest. “It was good to see you, Wolf,” I said in a high-pitched voice that sounded nothing like Monroe.