Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
“You good?” Lawson drawls.
“Do me a favor?” I say through gritted teeth.
He tips his head.
“Cut in.”
Now he raises his eyebrows. “You sure about that?”
It infuriates me to no end that I’m sending Lawson in my stead to watch out for Casey, but the way her eyes blazed when they locked with mine, I know there’s no chance in hell she’ll let me anywhere near her without a massive fight. So I force myself to keep my distance.
“I need you as my proxy. Go over there and make sure she’s not too fucked up.”
“You’re turning me into a babysitter?” He sighs. “Bro. I have an eight-ball all ready to go.”
“Please. Just for a little bit. Go check on her.”
If you’d told me I’d be sending Lawson Kent to put his filthy hands on the girl I’m obsessed with, I’d have laughed in your face. But here I am, standing there watching him saunter through the party. He draws the covetous gazes of girls and guys alike. With his tousled hair, his faded jeans and gray T-shirt, you’d never think he was heir to a billion-dollar empire. Most times he looks like a dude who just crawled home from some dive bar.
There’s no worse feeling in the world than when Casey’s face lights up at the sight of Lawson.
Motherfucker.
Maybe this was a mistake.
But then her joy fades, replaced by narrowed suspicion. He holds up his hands, and I know he’s feeding her that careless “who me” bullshit he relies on when he’s trying to convince someone he’s not up to no good.
Another streak of jealousy heats my blood as Casey turns to speak to Oliver, who grins and says something in her ear before striding off. She and Lawson wander over to a log, where they sit down and start whispering to each other, while I watch in agony.
“You seriously sent Kent over there?” Duke chortles at me. “You crazy?”
I ignore him and walk on stiff legs toward the kegs. Some freshman there pours me a watered-down beer. I curl my fingers around the cup and stalk away, keeping a close eye on the fire while I study the crowd.
I spot the captain of Ballard’s soccer team with a chick in his lap and a hand up her shirt. Nearby, I’m a bit startled to see Silas’s ex with her friends, her face animated as she tells them a story that has everyone laughing. I always forget how pretty Amy is. She’s got a girl-next-door vibe, like Casey, only she doesn’t elicit any of the hot desire that Casey does. Still, when our eyes meet, I tip my cup at her, and Amy gives a tight smile before turning away.
I’m barely alone a whole minute before Mila sidles up to me wearing a short black skirt and a see-through top that reveals the black bra beneath it. Her dark hair is up in a ponytail, eyes twinkling as she flashes me a smile.
“Looking mighty lonely over here, Bishop.”
“Nah. I’m doing just fine.”
My gaze remains on Casey and Lawson. I almost crush the plastic cup when she laughs at something he says.
“Lawson usually likes them more experienced, no?” Mila furrows her brow, then lets out a laugh. “I guess he’s running out of options. Plowed his way through everyone in a five-mile radius.”
“You included?” I can’t help but mock.
“Of course. Hooking up with Lawson Kent is practically a rite of passage.” Making herself cozy, Mila links her arm through mine and rests her head on my shoulder. “Same goes for hooking up with Fenn Bishop.”
I roll my eyes but don’t ease out of her grasp. It’s probably good I’ve got someone to lean against, literally, because I’m so tense, I’m afraid I’ll keel right over.
Granted, Mila’s probably not the one to lean on. She used to be a friend—and yeah, we did hook up once freshman year, before I got expelled from Ballard—but that was also before she decided to stab the Tresscotts in the back. From what Sloane says, Mila’s the source of the rumor that turned Casey from a victim to an attention-seeking psycho.
The reminder triggers a jolt of anger, which has me easing away from her. “Why’d you do it?”
She frowns. “Do what?”
“Turn against Casey.”
Her expression falters. She pulls my cup from my hand and takes a swig, her gaze briefly darting toward Casey. Then she speaks in a flat voice. “Because I’m a bitch.”
“Really, that’s your excuse?” A harsh laugh slips out. “Your girl Connie left a goddamn straitjacket in her locker.”
“What do you want me to say, Fenn?” She sounds tired. Ashamed. “I did a shitty thing, all right? It was supposed to be a joke. We were all sitting around, and I was like, how convenient that she can’t remember anything. She probably roofied herself for attention and accidentally drove into the lake.”