Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 131789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Except I can’t stop seeing that smile out of the corner of my eye. At this point it’s weirder if I don’t say something, right? Like I’m trying to check the guy out or something. Lawson’s on my other side giving me a suspicious frown as he walks off to get dressed.
“Come on,” I say. “What’s with the sudden sunny disposition?”
RJ lathers up his hair and turns under the showerhead to rinse. “Huh?”
“If you get any more cheerful you’re going to burst out in song.”
“Oh.” He doesn’t seem inclined to enlighten me, which is almost more annoying.
“That’s all? ‘Oh.’”
“Just distracted, I guess. Sloane’s supposed to meet me after practice.” He shoves hair off his forehead. “She’s probably already waiting outside.”
Of course. That’s why he’s turned into a Disney character. His and Sloane’s magical new love affair.
I turn to rinse my own hair so he doesn’t see my expression. Nothing about that relationship makes sense to me. If you can even call it that. I mean, how can you have a relationship with a guy who barely leaves his room and would rather have bamboo shoved under his fingernails than carry on a conversation? It boggles the goddamn mind.
What the ever-loving fuck does she see in this guy when Sloane could have anyone she wants?
I yank my towel off the hook and wrap it around my hips, eager to get away from Sloane’s new boytoy.
Not a boytoy. She’s in love with him, chirps the mocking voice in my head.
Whatever. If she thinks she loves the guy, fine. But excuse me if I don’t see this thing lasting. She’ll get bored of RJ eventually. She always does.
“Shaw,” Coach Gibson barks from the doorway. “Come see me before you leave. Need to go over some strategy for your heat next week.”
“Yessir,” RJ calls back, before glancing at me. “If Sloane’s out there when you leave, tell her to wait for me, okay?”
“Sure.”
I dress quickly and am out of the locker room five minutes later, eager to grab some dinner and forget about this whole obnoxious day. Just as RJ predicted, Sloane is indeed waiting outside the building for him.
“Hey.” She looks up from her phone, her face brightening when she spots me. “Thank God. I’m in desperate need of conversing with someone who isn’t Duke.”
I smile wryly. “He still blowing up your phone?”
“Yup.” As proof, she tilts her screen my way, and I whistle when I see the wall of text on there.
“Someone’s desperate.”
“I might need to stop ignoring him,” she says. “It just seems to make him text more. Ugh. But I’m so not in the mood to deal with Sexy Duke right now.”
I raise a brow. “Sexy Duke?”
“Oh, no, I don’t mean I still find him sexy,” she explains, rolling her eyes. “It’s just this insufferable smoldering persona he puts on when he’s trying to win me back. His seduction attempts always follow the same pattern.”
Always work, too, if history is any indication. But I keep my mouth shut. Sloane doesn’t like being reminded of her weakness when it comes to Duke.
“RJ’s inside talking to Coach, by the way,” I force myself to tell her. “He said to wait for him.”
She nods absently, once again checking her phone. This time, her expression is more strained than annoyed. “One sec,” she says to me, before lifting the phone to her ear. “Hey.”
I study the strap of my duffel bag, pretending I’m not blatantly trying to overhear her conversation.
“Seriously? There’s really nothing to talk about,” she protests. There’s a pause, and her gray eyes flicker with unease. “Fine. Okay.” Another pause. “Meet me at the bench on the trail to my house. I’ll be there in ten.” Then she hangs up and sighs.
“Duke?” I guess.
Her jaw tenses slightly. “Fuck.” She takes a breath. “Do me a favor and wait for RJ? Tell him I can’t meet up but I’ll call him later, okay?”
I narrow my eyes. “Fine, but you owe me one. I’m starving.”
“You’re a lifesaver.” She leans in to smack a kiss on my cheek. “Thanks, Si.”
I watch her hurry off, my gaze unwittingly lingering on her ass in those jean shorts. I probably shouldn’t be checking out my friend’s ass. But it’s hard not to. Sloane’s body is unreal.
I force my gaze off her retreating back and pull out my phone to text Amy. She’s still pissed at me because I told her I couldn’t hang out this weekend, but I don’t see her offering to make the trek and come here. Shit, it’s a hell of a lot easier for me to sneak her into my dorm than to break into hers. The Ballard housemothers are way more strict than old Roger.
I decide to point that out via text.
ME: You could always come here…
AMY: How would I even get to Sandover? I don’t have a car.