Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 113923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
At the table, I put the drinks down and take a seat. When Mackenzie pushes her water to the side to accept the beer, I know for certain she’s along for the ride. If she was going to get spooked and bolt, it would have been before I got back.
“Cooper Hartley.” I offer my hand to the roommate, who’s studying me not at all discreetly.
She shakes my hand, her small fingers lingering. “Bonnie May Beauchamp,” she says with a heavy Southern accent. “Don’t suppose your brother is lurkin’ around.”
“No, he’s probably getting into trouble somewhere.” Actually, he’s hustling rich kids out of their trust fund money at the pool tables a few doors down. It’s practically his second job. “Can’t take that kid anywhere.”
“That’s too bad.” Bonnie gives a playful pout.
It’s clear this Bonnie chick is a tiny bottle of fire. She’s got all kinds of mischievous sexual energy bursting out of her.
“We were hoping you had the skinny on the after-party, right, Mac? Somewhere …cozier.”
Mackenzie shoots a conflicted glance at her roommate. I bite back a grin. Now if she refuses, she’s cockblocking her friend. Tough spot, Mac. This roommate and I are becoming fast friends. This’ll be easier than I hoped.
“Cozy, huh?” I say.
Mackenzie glances back at me, realizing she never stood a chance at winning our little game. I’d feel bad if I were capable of giving a shit. This chick’s hot, and not a total nightmare, but I haven’t forgotten why I’m here. She’s still only a means to an end.
“I know a place.” It’s too soon to try inviting them back to the house. That’s coming on strong, and I know instinctively it’s not the right strategy on this one. She needs the measured approach. Build a rapport. Become friends. I can be patient when I need to be; let her come to me. The mission is to break up her and Kincaid. For that to work, she has to be invested.
“That doesn’t sound ominous at all.” Mackenzie’s got some bite to her now.
“I’ll text my brother, see if he’s interested in getting into some trouble with us instead of whatever he’s up to. Yeah?”
“I’m game.” Bonnie looks to Mackenzie with Daddy, can I have a pony eyes.
“I don’t know.” Torn, she consults her phone. “It’s almost one in the morning. My boyfriend’s probably home waiting for me to call him.”
“He’ll live,” Bonnie insists. Her pleading tone grows more urgent. “Please?”
“Come on, princess. Live a little.”
Mackenzie wrestles with her better judgment, and there’s a split second when I begin to question myself. That perhaps I’d read her wrong, and she’s not a bored rich girl who needs to let loose. That she’s fully capable of getting up, walking off, and never looking at me twice.
“Fine,” she relents. “An hour, tops.”
Nah, still got it.
CHAPTER SIX
MACKENZIE
I don’t quite know how we got here. I’m with Bonnie, Cooper, and his identical twin Evan, sitting around a glowing bonfire on the sand where the crashing waves and pulsing tide drown out the sounds of the boardwalk. The tiny sparks and embers flicker and float into the warm ocean air. Lights twinkle from behind the sand dunes and reflect off the water.
Clearly I’ve lost my mind. It’s as though someone else hijacked my brain when I agreed to let this stranger drag us into the darkness. Now, as Bonnie cozies up to her bad boy, a growing sense of unease builds inside me. It’s coming from the Cooper-sized space across the flames.
“You’re so full of it,” Bonnie accuses. She’s cross-legged beside me, laughing yet skeptical.
“I shit you not.” Evan puts his hands up in a show of innocence. “Coop’s sitting with this damn goat in the back of the squad car, and it’s scared, thrashing around. Kicks him in the forehead, and Coop starts gushing blood everywhere. So he’s trying to calm the goat down but everything’s all bloody and slippery back there. There’s blood all over him and the goat, the windows. And I’m driving this stolen cop car, the sirens are blaring, lights are flashing and shit.”
I laugh at his crazy description and animated hand gestures. Evan seems more playful than Cooper, who comes off as a bit intense. Their faces are identical, but it’s easy to tell them apart. Evan’s dark hair is cut shorter, his arms devoid of ink.
“And we can hear them on the radio,” Cooper says, his way too attractive face a dance of light and shadow from the fire between us. “They’re all, some damn fool kids stole a goat and a car. Set up a perimeter. Lock down the bridge. So we’re thinking, crap, where are we taking this thing?”
I can’t peel my gaze off his lips. His hands. Those muscular arms. I’m trying to trace the outlines of his tattoos as he gestures through the air. It’s psychological torture. I’m strapped to a chair, my eyes held open, driven mad by images of his dark eyes and crooked smirk. And although Evan literally has the same face, for some reason I’m not responding to him. Not even remotely. Just Cooper.