Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
But there’s one thing I can’t laugh about. Three words Seth said that echo inside my goddamn head.
You. Don’t. Mind.
*
The rest of the afternoon and into the night, I’m googling shit like hypnosis, neurolinguistic programming, and the power of persuasion, with mixed results.
Some people swear by crap like hypnosis and NLP, while skeptics tend to believe in some ability to influence, but nowhere near as dramatic as what some of this shit claims.
Hell, if I hadn’t had that experience, I’d be just as skeptical.
But that wasn’t influence. I can’t think of anything that could have taken me down from that rage other than being shot with a tranquilizer, and even that would have taken time to kick in.
Right after it happened, the details were hazy, like something I would’ve remembered from childhood. It had been enough to make me second-guess myself, but now all the details are back, rich and vivid. So graphic that I don’t doubt what happened. And only with hypnosis have people claimed they could be totally transformed with just a keyword or phrase, ridiculous as that might seem.
But surely if Seth was running around campus hypnotizing everyone, people would notice. Although, I haven’t been here long enough to know what everyone talks about.
The following morning, I’m in the communal kitchen for our floor. A few guys are in the dining area, watching Judge Judy on the big-screen TV. I’m standing at the stove, fixing an omelet, when Brad walks in.
“Morning, Pretty Boy,” he says, glancing me over, his gaze lingering on my body a little too long, making me wonder if maybe Alexei was right about Brad’s behavior. What if it was just an inappropriate way of approaching his attraction?
But that doesn’t seem right. From what I’ve heard, he’s messed around with a ton of guys, and if that was his reputation, people wouldn’t think he was a stand-up guy, as Alexei put it.
As he opens the fridge, I glance his way and notice the protrusion in the crotch of his sweatpants. “You’re having a very good morning, aren’t you?” I say, deliberately pushing. He needs to know I’m not gonna sit back and take his crap.
He glares at me.
“Is that all for me?” I jab.
“Why, you need a smoothie for breakfast?”
The way he raises his brow, smirking, it has me thinking that if he wasn’t such a fucking tool, we might actually get along. But since he’s determined to be my archnemesis, it’s now a game I must win.
“If I need protein, I have bars for that.”
I glance around the dining area. The other guys are chatting or engrossed in Judge Judy’s deliberations, and for the first time, Seth isn’t right at Brad’s side.
I’ve been debating about the best tactic. Confront just Brad, just Seth, or both at the same time?
Seth is much cooler than Brad, though. Seems like Brad struggles with controlling himself, which might work to my advantage if I can get him to slip up, admit that Seth fucking hypnotized me yesterday.
Christ, what the hell am I even saying?
As I flip my omelet, Brad pulls out some OJ, then rifles through the freezer, retrieving frozen fruits.
“I’m planning to come to the pickup game next week again. In case you thought you were gonna discourage me from that.”
“Be happy to kick your ass again.”
“Maybe you could show some integrity this time. Be less of an embarrassment to your team.”
He snickers, but it somehow sounds like a low, rumbling growl. My dick gets a little twitchy, which is fucked up, and I’ve been up too long to blame it on morning wood. I also notice heat in my chest, intensifying rapidly. I’d say it’s just my anger at him, but it’s stronger than anything I’ve felt in the past. Reminds me of why I got so fucking heated from the jump yesterday.
Brad fills the blender with frozen fruit, protein powder, and peanut butter, then mashes it all together. Meanwhile, I plate my omelet and grab ketchup from the fridge.
When Brad pours his mix into a glass, I set my plate on the counter near him and say, “That was an interesting trick your friend Seth pulled yesterday.”
“What can I say? He’s great at stealing.” As he says that, he shoots me a look like he knows damn well I’m not talking about one of the impressive moves Seth pulled during the game. And I don’t have to read his mind to know it’s a bluff. Has to be. I saw the way he looked at Seth after he fed me that suggestion.
“That’s not the trick I was talking about. I was referring to his induction.” I use it like a hypno pro, based on my limited Google investigation.
Brad’s brows shift closer as he winces. “Induction?”
“Real interesting how fast he calmed me down, don’t you think? Maybe a little too fast.”