Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“Where are we going?” I laugh as he rushes past the students trying to make their way out of here.
“Come on,” he calls, looking like an excited kid in a candy store. “We’ve got to do this quick.”
“Do what?”
He grins wickedly as he looks back at me. “You didn’t think I’d let Damian get away with outing you like that in the middle of biology, did you?”
“Oh, no, no, no, no,” I say, putting on the brakes. “What are you doing? If you’re about to get into some ridiculous prank war with him, then I’m out. I don’t want anything to do with that.”
“Come on,” he groans, pulling on my hand again, but the grin on his face tells me that I’m right and that I really don’t want anything to do with this. “I have to do this before training otherwise coach will have my ass and I’ll be doing suicides all fucking afternoon.”
How am I supposed to say no to him?
“Damn it, Cruz,” I grumble, letting him pull me along again.
We get down to the parking lot and Slade goes over to his Dodge RAM before digging through the back and pulling out a jack. “What the hell do you need that for?”
Slade doesn’t respond, just grins up at me and laughs to himself as he grabs a few tools. He hands them over while he fiddles with the jack and starts heading over to Damian’s Mustang.
“You’re not fucking with his car, are you?” I question in horror, glancing over the old Mustang. Damian absolutely loves his car and if Slade is going to stoop that low, then I don’t doubt this is going to turn into something that I don’t want to be a part of, but damn, it would be so much fun. I’m sure being at war with Damian isn’t going to be easy. He’ll be the kind to commit 100%. He’d be absolutely brutal, but then, so would Slade.
Damn, this is going to be interesting.
Slade drops down at Damian’s rear tire and starts setting up the jack. I watch in awe. I’ve never been one to know anything about cars but Slade seems to know exactly what he’s doing and to be honest, it’s kind of sexy that he’s such a man’s man.
Within moments, he has the car jacked-up and I’m passing him some sort of tool that helps loosen the bolts to remove the tire. I’m left shaking my head with every move he makes, but as he looks back up at me with a grin, I can’t help but grin right back.
The tire comes off a shitload easier than I ever imagined and just when I think that’s the end of his payback, Slade starts rolling the tire towards a tree. “No,” I gasp as Slade starts climbing the tree.
“Yes,” he tells me, sitting up in the branches. “Now, you’re probably not going to like this, but I’m going to need you to pass that up to me.”
“What?” I shriek, staring down at the tire in horror. How the hell am I supposed to lift that?
I glance back up at Slade to see him watching me with that same cocky grin only this time, it makes me want to slap it off his face. I let out a heavy sigh and push my sleeves up my arms, knowing they’re about to get destroyed.
I grab hold of the stupid tire and groan. It’s fucking heavy and the only way I’m able to get it up to Slade is by pressing it against the tree with my stomach and rolling it up there.
He holds back a laugh and I glare as he takes his sweet ass time taking it off me. He plucks it out of my hands as though it’s nothing and positions it in between the branches. Slade shuffles around in the tree and just when I think he’s done, he pulls a tube of honey from his back pocket and begins slathering it all over the tire.
When he’s done, he looks back at his handiwork with a proud smile and then drops down to the ground with ease. Slade pulls his shirt over his head and wipes the honey off onto it as he walks back over to his truck.
After rifling through his back seat, he emerges with his basketball jersey and pulls it over his head. “I’d slam you up against my truck and kiss you goodbye but this fucking honey didn’t really come off my hands.”
“No shit,” I laugh. “I could have told you that.”
He leans in and brushes his lips over mine anyway but thankfully keeps his hands to himself. “Come to practice with me?”
“Nah,” I tell him, shaking my head. “I’m going to head home and get through my homework so I can binge on old ‘Friends’ reruns.”