Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 162567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)
Was it good?
Our first time inside Sulli together. That’s a night none of us will forget, not anytime soon.
45
SULLIVAN MEADOWS
3 MONTHS BEFORE THE OLYMPICS
EARLY MAY
“SULLIVAN, LOOK HERE!”
“SULLI, OVER HERE!”
“SULLIVAN!”
“SULLIVAN! YOU LOOK GREAT!”
“SULLI, RIGHT HERE!”
Paparazzi wail and bellow a version of the same taunting thing. Trying to capture my petrified gaze into their bright flashes and big lenses. They swarm like bees, buzzing around. Flapping their invisible wings and wielding their cameras like stingers. Fuck, I shield my eyes with my hand, keep my head low, just so I can concentrate on my feet.
One foot in front of the other.
One foot in front of the fucking other.
Aunt Lily told me to just keep moving. Don’t pause for too long. And being my mother’s daughter—moving and speed are familiar friends of mine.
Akara leads. Banks’ hands clasp my waist behind me. Then extra security shields me from every other direction. I’m cocooned in a secure bubble—at least I pretend I am.
For a second.
On my way to the Jeep, I leave the Aquatic Center behind. Hair still wet, and chlorine is like perfume imprinted on my skin. Spirits are high after tonight’s swim.
I beat my record in the 200m IM.
Nothing can bring me down. Not even the constant fucking shouts. The encroaching bodies. It’s all background to the pride bubbling up in me.
Beating my time instills more hope. Hope that I’ll do well this year at the Olympics. As we come up to the SUV, my feet stop cold.
No, no.
Fuck no.
Someone defiled Booger.
Across the passenger door, someone painted the words SLUT in red.
My stomach overturns. She’s not a slut. And I’m not a fucking slut! I want to scream, but they’re waiting for an epic meltdown.
Banks’ back presses up against mine, his mouth dips to my ear. “Sulli, keep moving.” My body reanimates.
“SULLIVAN! How do you feel about your car?!”
“ARE YOU ANGRY?!”
“LOOK HERE!”
I can’t hide my ire and hurt. I’m giving the press exactly what they want. Enter-fucking-tainment. More photos to flame the gossip and news.
“BACK UP!” Akara shouts, pushing cameramen away who try to provoke a bigger reaction.
“BANKS, AKARA!” they shout. “HOW DO YOU FEEL KNOWING YOUR GIRLFRIEND IS BEING CALLED A SLUT?!”
Heat radiates off Akara.
Banks is a solid brick behind me. I can’t see either of their expressions, but their body language screams, fuck off and fuck you.
I’m curved more inward, and I’d flip paparazzi the bird—but I’m enjoying my safe fucking bubble too much to reach an arm out.
But fuck, how I hate after three long months, my relationship is still so newsworthy.
I knew this would happen.
Yeah, but I didn’t think Booger would pay the price. I don’t think Adam Sully imagined his Jeep would end up here like this.
I suck in a breath and when I’m near the car, I climb into the backseat.
Akara drives. Banks takes the passenger.
I let them concentrate on leaving the parking lot through the flashes, the bodies, the screaming. The arduous, panic-inducing process takes a good fifteen minutes. By the time we’re on the road, Banks finally rotates to look at me. “Sulli—”
“I’m fine,” I say sharply. “I won’t let them fuck up a good night.” Media has taken a lot from me these past few months. They won’t take this fucking feeling, too.
“You sure you’re okay?” Akara asks, glancing through the rearview at me. “That was effing hectic.”
“No more hectic than it’s been, Kits.” I take out a water bottle from my gym bag.
“The Jeep…” Akara starts.
I shrug, words stuck in my throat.
“I’ll repaint Booger,” Banks tells me. “She’ll be good as new.”
“Thanks,” I say softly, lost in thought for a second. “It’s fucking weird, right?”
“What is?” Banks asks while Akara pulls into the parking deck to the apartment complex.
“I think I might be getting used to this. The…madness of it all.” I take a small sip of water and recap the bottle.
Banks nods slowly. “Our new normal.”
“In this new normal,” Akara says, “we should probably not leave Booger in random parking lots anymore.”
I want to tell him that the Aquatic Center isn’t “random” but I get his point. She’s going to be cooped up in the parking garage more now than ever. Sadness washes over me because I think Adam Sully would rather have his Jeep defiled with the word “Slut” than gathering dust in a garage.
But I can’t lose this Jeep, and if that means keeping her safe for a little while, I’ll do it.
* * *
On the elevator up to the penthouse, we’ve been joking about the paparazzi.
“They have a hard-on for us,” Banks says, his arm around me as we ascend.
“Obsessed,” Akara agrees.
“And we’re blue-balling them,” I grin.
Akara smiles. “I’m a whore for blue-balling paparazzi.”
“You have a half-chub then?” I nudge his arm.
They laugh, and Akara says, “I’m only fully erect for one babe.” Akara is undressing me with his eyes, and I feel exposed in the best, most tempting fucking way. What’s sad is that this is about to end. They’ll say goodbye to me and head three-floors below to wash off today and prepare for tomorrow.