Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
“Stop the yelling,” I mutter and try to put my pillow over my head, but it’s yanked out of my hands.
“Oh shit! Oh my God! My eyes!” Violet shrieks. The bed jostles and there’s a thud.
I blink a few times and glance toward the noise as Violet pops to her feet. She tosses a pillow at me, but it lands at my waist. She’s not wearing her glasses and her hair is a wreck.
Which is when I realize we’re in my bedroom and she just rolled out of my bed. And I’m completely naked.
“It’s not what it looks like!” Violet says.
“You were in bed together and Miller is naked!” Skye yells.
My head throbs at her volume.
“He wasn’t naked when we fell asleep. I swear! He was wearing a pair of shorts and a t-shirt,” Violet shrieks.
Her face has turned red and there are blotchy patches on her neck and collarbones.
I have no idea what the hell is going on. My memories of last night are hella vague. I remember Cliff boning his sometimes-girlfriend in Violet’s room. There may have been some weird shit going down. I also remember, vaguely, mentioning that Violet is forbidden fruit. Or something. Maybe that was in my head. I hope it was in my head. Unfortunately, it sounds like something I would say out loud, not on purpose.
As I slowly process the scene, I worry that I’m very wrong. Because I’m super naked and we’re in the same bed and I’m not sure how we got here. I vaguely remember a couple of my teammates making comments about Violet. I also remember two girls yammering on about stepbrother romance and how it never really goes out of style. I didn’t even know that was a thing, although in my defense, I typically avoid reading books because the words jump all over the fucking page on me.
I leave behind my confusing thoughts and tune back into what’s going on around me, mostly because my dad is blowing a gasket.
“Why are you in bed together in the first place? And what the hell went on here last night? The house is a disaster. I told you, three friends over max. I want some answers! Now!” Dad booms.
I cover my ears with my palms and groan.
“I think maybe we should let Miller get dressed and then we can figure it out from there,” Skye says. At least she’s not shrieking anymore. That’s good.
Her eyes are wide with shock and horror. Both are understandable. Especially if I accidentally drunk slept with my future stepsister. I really hope that isn’t what happened. I hope there’s a reasonable excuse for Violet being in my bed that doesn’t include sex I can’t remember.
Skye hustles Violet out of my bedroom, but Dad stays put. He closes the door and crosses his arms. I’ve done plenty of stupid shit in my life, including trying to get into a bar with Randy last year during one of our games up in Canada, but I’ve never seen him this angry in my life. It’s fucking terrifying. It doesn’t help that all I have is a pillow to shield my nakedness. I belatedly realize that both Violet and Skye have now seen my junk. And I was probably sporting a morning chub.
“Well?” Dad’s right eye twitches.
I’m staring at my lap. I look at him for a second. “Huh?”
“Violet is sixteen fucking years old and my fi—girlfriend’s daughter.” His face is an uncomfortable shade of red.
“Maybe you should sit down. Or take an aspirin? Your face.” I stop talking because the twitch in his eye is getting worse.
“Did you put your hands on her?”
“You mean, like, on her fun parts?” That was the very wrongest way to word that sentence, but it’s already out of my mouth and I can’t take it back.
“Did you engage in sexually inappropriate conduct with my girlfriend’s daughter?” His voice is low and quiet, but not in a reassuring way. More in the he’s a powder keg ready to blow way.
I open and close my mouth several times, but no words come out. Because I don’t have the answer to that. I try to stealth like bring my fingers to my nose, because if I did do stuff with Violet, they should tell me. Or the smell should tell me.
Dad’s eyes look like they’re about to bug out of his head. For half a second, I imagine them shooting across the room and pinging around off the walls. I almost laugh. Almost.
Except before I can get my fingers within sniffing distance of my nose, my dad is right there, an iron grip around my wrist.
We stare at each other for a few long, horrible seconds. Because he knows what I was about to do. I feel like I’m about to hurl. And maybe cry.