Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 107687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Man, why does Dimitri’s face come into my mind? I’m such an idiot.
I shake my head, mainly to shake the image out of my brain, but truth be told, he has been very kind to me. He messes with me all the time and drives me undeniably crazy, but he has been respectful. He has never entered my room, doesn’t just walk into the bathroom like I did to him by accident, and always thinks of me when it comes to food. He’s cool.
But instead of gushing about Dimitri, I say, “I don’t know why I do this. I was the one to leave first. I made the move, so why am I still allowing them to own parts of me?”
Eliza shakes her head. “I don’t know. But Austen, you saved us all.”
I gawk at her. “No. Peepaw did.”
“No,” she stresses, squeezing me. “You did. You got out, you got in contact with Peepaw, and you got us somewhere safe with the money you saved. You made it happen because you wanted better for us, right?”
I nod. “Right.”
“Then live the better,” she says softly. “What would make you happy right now?”
To kiss Dimitri.
I don’t even speak that thought out loud, and still, I smack my hand across my mouth, not only in surprise but to keep myself from saying it. Am I crazy? Kiss Dimitri? There are nine million other things that should make me happy, so how is that what I want right now?
What is wrong with me?
“What?” Louisa asks, shaking me.
“Tell us,” Eliza coaxes. “Do you have a special hot hockey player whom you want to be slammed against things by?”
Oh, how my insides burn and my heart skips. I close my eyes, shaking my head and moving away from them.
“You do!” Eliza is convinced as she bounces on her heels. “Who is he? What’s his name? Is he hot?”
Louisa snorts, smacking Eliza playfully. “Look at all the shades of red she’s turning! Her nose is red, her cheeks pink, and even her ears have color.”
I smack my hands over my ears and sigh heavily. “Quit. It’s nothing.”
These two trap me. One on each side, both with huge grins and eager eyes. “Tell us everything!”
I try to play it off. “There is nothing to tell,” I say, but even I don’t believe me.
“Are you serious right now?” Louisa asks. “We tell each other everything.”
I look between my sisters, and I know that to be true. We do, but I can’t talk about Dimitri. That’s crazy. If I did, my feelings and wants would be vocalized, and then how am I supposed to ignore them? “There is nothing to tell.”
They both glare. “That’s really messed up, Austen.”
“For real,” Eliza adds as they turn to walk to the racks.
I roll my eyes at their disappointment. I’m not ready for that. I don’t even know if I want to act on how I feel, especially when I’m not supposed to like the guy. Or be distracted by the guy. Or better yet, live with him, but we’re ignoring that. Just as I ignore everything, I guess.
“Your favorite color is teal, right?” Eliza asks, reaching for a dress.
I shrug. “Yeah, but—”
“This dress will look incredible on your skin,” she says, holding out the dress. It is floor-length with a slit up the side and a tight bodice. It isn’t low-cut, high instead, with thin straps. It sparkles, too. “It’s modest but sexy at the same time.”
It is a really pretty dress.
“It’s the slit for me. You have great thighs,” Louisa adds as she looks away, reaching for another dress.
I take it from Eliza, and it’s my size. I work the inside of my lip as I hold it up to myself, and yeah, it does look nice against my skin.
“I’m going to try it on,” I decide, and then I start walking before they give me anything else.
After an attendant lets me into the dressing room, I take off my shirt and then my leggings because of the slit. I reach for the dress on the hanger when I catch sight of my body. I don’t take in the fluffiness of my stomach or even the size of my ass. Instead, my eyes are drawn to the damaged parts. Along the backs of my thighs is thick, calloused skin. A scar runs down my hip from where I was pushed into a gate that had a rusted nail in it. The cut got infected, and I had to have wound care for three months. I was only ten. My bra hides the scars of old bite wounds that, when I was younger, I continued to pick at because I hated them so much. I figured if I picked them off, maybe they’d go away.
It’s kind of bizarre that I’ve been reading vampire books when the first thing they do before intercourse is bite their mate. But in the books, the vampire is biting out of love, out of lust. In the Halo, I was bitten for pain. To be laughed at if I cried.