The Setup (Single in Seattle #4) Read Online Kristen Proby

Categories Genre: Contemporary Tags Authors: Series: Single in Seattle Series by Kristen Proby
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Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 72828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
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“You’re totally playing him,” the guy she’s snuggled up to says with a laugh. “Just to get in good with his dad.”

“Hey, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. Who doesn’t want to star in a Williams film? This could be my ticket to the next level.”

“And in the meantime, you get to dick around with his kid,” the recorder says. I can tell by the tone of his voice that he doesn’t approve.

And so can she.

“What do you care? He’s fine. He’s just a boy. And if I can get to his dad this way, it’s fine.”

“Do you just want to star in a film, or do you want his dad?” the recorder asks. “I know you’ve always had a crush on Luke.”

“Maybe both.” Her smile is sly, and although she’s only seventeen, she knows exactly what she’s doing.

“That’s enough.” I stop the recording and pass it back to Mason, who hasn’t said a fucking word. “Where did you get that shit?”

“It was posted online,” he says and then cringes when my head whips around, and I stare at him in horror. “I know. It’s on the socials, and some tabloids have picked it up.”

“Fuck me sideways.” I drag my hand down my face. Jesus, I’m such a goddamn fool. Why did I believe all of her bullshit? I know better. I’m related to someone famous, and I know the score when it comes to people in LA, but I fell for her shit, hook, line, and sinker. “I’m an idiot.”

“Nah, you just got played, man. It happens.”

“Not like this. I’ll drop you off at home.”

We’re silent as we drive through the suburb of Seattle, where we both live, and I pull into his driveway.

“If you want to talk about it, just text me,” Mason says as he opens the door. “I’ll be around all weekend.”

“Thanks, man.”

I watch as he climbs out and slams the door, and then I blow out a breath.

I thought Sabrina was different from other superficial girls. Since puberty, I’ve dealt with girls wanting to date me because of who my family is. I’m part of the Montgomery clan, which means that I have pro footballers, rock stars, and all kinds of cool people in my family. And I love them. But kids are starstruck and take it too fucking far.

I thought Sabrina would understand that, and she’d be different because she lives the same damn life.

And yet, here we are.

I’m mortified. Yeah, I’m disappointed, and my heart is bruised, but more than that, I’m embarrassed. I was too smitten with her to see the writing on the wall.

Jesus, was she at that party last night, and that’s why she didn’t want to video chat?

“Fuck me,” I mutter as I park in front of my house and walk inside.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Mom says with a big, happy smile, the way she always does when we get home from school. “Want a snack?”

“Nah, I’ll be in my room.”

She frowns, but I don’t stop to explain. I just hurry to my room and shut the door, drop my bag on the floor, and feel like punching a wall.

Maybe I’ll go down to the workout room in the basement that Dad had put in when I was a little kid.

Yeah, that’s what I need. To sweat. To hit something.

To just exhaust myself so I forget how fucking terrible my life is right now.

I quickly change and then jog down to the basement. Surprisingly, Dad’s already there, doing pull-ups.

“Hey,” is all he says as I move to the treadmill, set it for a fast speed, and begin to run.

Maybe I can just run away from all the bullshit that’s just been unloaded on me in the last hour. God, I thought I loved that girl.

What a fucking joke.

I run until my lungs are screaming and the sweat pours off of me.

Then, I get off the treadmill, and, while wiping my face with a towel, I walk to the punching bag and take a turn there, not even giving my lungs much of a rest.

If my body hurts, I don’t have time to think about today’s humiliation.

When my arms feel like rubber, and my lungs feel like they might just give out on me altogether, I turn to get some water and find my dad sitting on a nearby bench, watching me with sober blue eyes.

“You know.”

He nods and passes me a bottle of water. “I know.”

I crack the lid on the water bottle, tip it back, and down the entire thing, then toss it into the recycling bin. “Awesome. I’ll add it to my list of things to feel humiliated over.”

“You shouldn’t feel that way. And, if it makes you feel any better, she’ll be hard-pressed to find work for a very long time. She fucked with my family. Now, I squish her like a bug.”



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