Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 137433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
As if on cue, someone changes the song to “Freak Me” by Silk.
I whip my head to see Grim standing next to the phone connected to the Bluetooth, giving me a cheesy grin and a thumbs-up.
I’m going on a fucking killing spree in about two seconds.
Bailey is oblivious to the fact all eyes are trained on her.
She’s in her own little world, a prisoner to the music, rolling her hips over Austin’s thigh, her gaze locked with his, riding and dry-humping him to the rhythm like she was born to do it.
I can’t stop looking. Watching this stranger dancing for Austin for drugs.
Yeah, she isn’t perfect, sweet, funny, and smart like Old Bailey.
But she is sexy, daring, carefree, and frankly, fucking infuriating. She isn’t safe and I’m starting to see I like that she isn’t. How fucked up is that? Very.
Austin plucks a pill from his palm and puts it between his teeth, half pushed out.
Bailey takes the bait, leaning forward to kiss him and steal the pill. That’s when my self-control crumbles like a stale-ass cookie.
I white-knuckle the beer, toss it back in one go, and head over to them.
I’m not sure on what authority I am acting right now—I’m not her boyfriend—so I feed myself a bullshit story that Austin is going to hurt Bailey, even though Dove will sooner get her heart broken by a lukewarm cup of piss than this shit-for-brains nobody.
“Show’s over, everyone.” I grab a handful of her lousy excuse for a dress and pull her off of Austin, slinging an arm over her to protect her modesty. “Grab your shit, change the song, and get the fuck out.”
Austin swivels toward me, his face a map of scars and broken blood vessels. My handiwork. “Enjoyed the view, Cole?”
He doesn’t have a pill in his mouth right now so I take it Bailey already swallowed it.
Does she even know what it was? Does she even care?
Ignoring the asshat, I turn to Bailey. “I need a word.”
She smiles sunnily up at me, while jerking away from my touch. “I’ll give you two, then—fuck off.”
A few weeks ago, I’d be stunned that she cursed.
Now I’m low-key happy she didn’t knife me to prove her point.
Austin slaps his thigh, cackling like a hyena. “Man, what a humbling experience, huh, Cap?” I swear he is coming in his pants, he looks so happy. “Always wanted to see someone bringing you down a notch or two. But that’s a whole damn skyscraper you’ve fallen from.”
Keeping my gaze focused on my best friend—and yes, she’s still that; she will always be that—I drawl, “The way I see it, you have two options, Dove. Either you come with me willingly, or I call your parents and tell them to pick up the trash because the bag is almost broken.”
Her mouth hangs open in shock. “Are you calling me trash?”
“Sweetheart, you treat yourself like it. Why wouldn’t I call you that?” I tsk, then look around me, adding, “Plus, this place is full of drugs.”
She looks around, confused. “No, it isn’t.”
I produce a bag of weed from my pocket, a borrow from a pothead skater dude I know here, and dangle it in front of her. “Sure ’bout that, Dove?”
She can’t win this argument, and she knows it. I can see it in her eyes. They burn with hatred toward me, and I can’t help but suck my bottom lip and wish she were the one to do it.
Because Passionate Bailey is my newest addiction.
“One word,” she hisses. “Wait here, Austin.”
“Baby, you don’t have to ask twice.”
I turn around and make my way upstairs, to a secluded bedroom. Bailey follows me.
In the upstairs hallway, I catch a glimpse of Maria, who is both on Power of the Pen and Model United Nations teams with me.
She also happens to be one of the other girls at school whose lifelong mission isn’t riding my dick. “Maria, can you come with us real quick?” I ask.
She frowns, ripping her attention from the group of her nerdy friends. “What for?” she asks. “I’m not having a threesome or whatever.”
“Crushed,” I deadpan. “Follow me.”
“What’s in it for me?” Maria thunders. I can feel Bailey’s glare burning a hole through the back of my shirt, wondering where all of this is going.
“A hundred bucks,” I say.
“Two hundred.” Maria folds her arms, tilting her chin up. “Inflation, Cole. Oh, and I want Todd’s number.”
Ballsy? I suppress a snort.
“Why not?” Her face falls as she reads my reaction as a dig at her. “You think he’s out of my league?”
“Nah, I… Never mind. Not my story to tell. You got yourself a deal. Come.”
The three of us file into one of the rooms. It looks like a guest room by the sheer lack of personality, but come to think of it, it could easily be Donnie’s.