Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 89074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Gave you the benefit of the doubt, every time Wes worried that you might be cheating on me.
I said you wouldn’t do that.
Look how fucking wrong I was.
My chest tightens and my hand starts to twitch, like my body is gearing up for a fight.
Students are packed into every corner, dressed in their best red outfits. Until this moment, I was loving every minute of it. Everyone came in wearing masquerade masks in shades of red, but many have come off as the party went on, and now only half of the people have one on.
Mikael isn’t wearing a mask.
Which is funny, because now I see who he really is.
I really know how to pick the guys I fuck, don’t I?
Moth to a flame.
Sequins glitter on gowns. Jewelry glints in the strobing lights. And all I can focus on is how deep the guy’s tongue is inside Mikael’s mouth.
The stranger holds a lit cigar between two of his fingers as he’s kissing my boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend, now, I guess I should say.
I never thought it would be an issue dating a guy from Double Daggers.
Now I realize why it’s a mistake.
They finally stop sucking face and they move closer toward the open window, sharing puffs of the cigar with two girls. One of the girls is Tara, the head of Luros Sorority, someone I thought was my friend. And I’m almost certain the other guy tongue-fucking Mikael is a new Daggers member.
I’m caught between two options.
I want to go punch Mikael in the face.
But I also don’t want him to know how much he’s affecting me.
And I really don’t want to start shit with Double Daggers.
A new song comes on and a looping bassline pumps through the entire lower level of the house. I look around, searching the room for Weston or Noah or anyone I can actually fucking trust.
I can’t find any of them.
I need to remember who I am, and I need to remember that if I start shit with Mikael, I’ll be starting a stupid war with Double Daggers, and the last time that happened, three people got expelled.
They start to kiss again and heat flares through me.
Maybe I don’t fucking care about starting a war.
And then Mikael pulls back from his current make-out session to stare across the room like a drooling dog.
I see all of the people in the corner turn to stare, actually.
One by one.
Heads turning.
I wonder if somebody invited a celebrity.
But when I look behind me to see exactly what it is, my stomach drops.
He’s here.
Hunter Knox.
A halo of windblown blond hair crowning his head.
One instinct flashes through my body, above all others.
Take him.
Take him right fucking now.
Get him on the ground and show him exactly how much things have changed.
But instead I’m stuck staring at him, like I’m that drooling dog, just like everybody else.
I swear Hunter must try to make his hair look purposefully fucked up, framing his delicate features. You could almost be fooled into thinking he was angelic if you didn’t look at his eyes.
He’s in a fitted black jacket and dark denim, and the only red he bothered to include in his outfit is the shirt he’s wearing underneath.
And suddenly I’m plagued by a bone-deep, bitter envy.
This place is my world.
My whole world.
And I refuse to be second to you.
My heart thuds in my chest as I glance back at my ex.
He’s still looking at Hunter.
Fucking asshole.
A defiant urge swallows me whole, like the devil on my shoulder just took control.
Do it.
Fire consumes me all at once.
Do it.
Suddenly the only important thing in the world now is getting Mikael to look at me, instead.
My feet are already moving before I can second-guess myself.
Do.
It.
I move across the room, approaching Hunter.
With every step I take toward him, something screams louder inside me, at war with the other urges.
I know, dimly, that I should turn around.
Get the fuck away.
But betrayal is a dirty-burning fuel, and it’s surging like a drug in my veins when I get in close to him.
Do it right fucking now.
Count of three. Ready?
I’ve never been this close to Hunter unless I was trying to punch him. Hunter’s eyes are crystalline grey-blue, like two cold lakes, and it’s gorgeous, terrifying, and I’m well aware he’s knocked people unconscious for worse than what I’m about to do.
But these days, I take what I want.
Three.
I need to make my ex burn with fucking jealousy.
Two.
I’ll deal with the consequences later.
One.
I grab the front of Hunter’s shirt in my fist and lock my gaze on his lips.
I lean in and crush my mouth to his, like he’s my possession to take.
My heartbeat is like a war drum, pounding faster than the rhythm of the bassy music.
Fuck.
His lips are softer than I expected.
It feels good to kiss him, and heat blooms in my chest the moment I realize I’m actually doing this.