Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Everything in my life used to make sense.
Everything was meant to make sense, but he was proving to be the lone exemption, and he was making everything fall apart.
“Can we just stop this?” I swallowed. “Please?”
Marcus’ face became expressionless, and I suddenly had the most awful feeling that I had somehow...hurt him.
And I didn’t want it.
I really didn’t want it.
But before I could think of something to say, I heard him speak—-
“Nic and Jaak often told me stories about you, you know.”
I froze.
“We go to the same soccer club, your brothers and I. It’s how we met.”
Oh. I knew what he was talking about. It was an annual one-week sports camp that Jaak and Nic had started attending as part of their therapy, following our parents’ unofficial exile from Amsterdam.
“I also went for therapeutic reasons.”
Marcus’ tone was casual, too casual—-
“That’s how – or rather, it’s the reason why your brothers and I mainly got along, when normally we would’ve beaten each other up because we were too similar.”
And it hurt.
“Was it—-” I tested a tentative smile on my face. “Too many big fish in a small pond, that kind of thing?”
“More like too much ego and trauma for one soccer team to handle, but yeah, you could say that, too.” His ironic tone made me smile a little, but his words also made my heart squeeze.
“They’d probably never admit it to you, but your brothers were always homesick when they were away from camp, and telling me stories – about you in particular – helped make them feel better, I suppose.” His lips twisted. “There were times when I wished I could have my turn. I wanted to tell them stories, too. But I didn’t have any.”
“I s-see.”
And I did see.
I was beginning to see why he needed a reminder about the world being a good place, and it just made my heart ache even more.
“Why were they telling you stories,” I heard myself ask, “about me?” Why not Fleur? Or why not just our family in general?
“They thought I was too cruel with the girls I dated.”
“Oh.” I was seriously stunned, and because I couldn’t help it, I blurted out, “Really?”
He smirked. “It’s the complete truth.”
Now I was even more confused. Jaak had been a notorious playboy even when he was still in high school, and he had only gotten worse over the years. Nic, on the other hand, was devastatingly ruthless when it came to getting rid of girls he found too clingy, stupid-—the list went on, really. Nic was rather picky when it came to the girls he dated.
The point was, Jaak and Nic were far from being perfect boyfriend material, and now Marcus was telling me those two brothers of mine thought they were qualified to give their friend advice about how to properly treat girls?
“How bad are you?” I couldn’t help asking. “Do you, like, beat up the girls you date?”
It was obviously supposed to be a joke, but Marcus’ lips only curved. “Something like that.”
Riiiight.
“So you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong with you,” I guessed.
“Something like that.” His hands left my waist all of a sudden, but before I could even think of moving away, he had placed his hands over mine, pressing my hands closer to his chest, and I found myself ensnared in a different way.
Crap. Crap, crap, crap.
Should I have seen that coming?
Or had I not wanted to see it coming?
Where Marcus Ravelli was concerned, I just didn’t know the difference between what I did and didn’t want anymore.
“Your brothers told me that not all girls were bitchy, vain, selfish, and dumb.”
“O-oh?” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. On one hand, I felt he was being more than a little sexist. I could say the same thing about guys, too. But on the other hand, there was the way he was looking at me-—oh, he was looking at me like I was everything the other girls couldn’t be – and it was making my lungs suddenly incapable of functioning properly.
“So they started telling me stories about you, and the more they talked about this paragon—-”
I was a paragon?
“Who couldn’t possibly be real—-”
I wasn’t real?
“The more I wanted a chance to meet you.”
This was the point where my heart went wild, and all I could do was plead silently for it to stop—-
Please heart, please, please be still—-
“When Jaak told me he was skipping camp this year, I practically left him no choice but to invite me to Bruin Hemel.”
Oh please stop thumping so hard—-
“When I first met you, and you were in your pajamas, and Jaak told me you hadn’t even taken a shower—-”
Stop racing so fast—-
“I looked at you, and I knew every word they said was true.”
Because if you don’t, I just might let myself forget how dangerous Marcus Ravelli was.