Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 80643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Great.
“Did he seem… worried?”
Hunter frowns. “Why would he be worried? Is everything okay?”
I wave a hand through the air. “It’s fine.”
There’s a reason Hunter is double-checking.
Last fall, Hunter had to deal with his own mountain of traumatizing shit that went down here at Onyx House. Someone was trying to kill him and his brother, as well as threatening Rayne. When Hunter fixates on something, he becomes a bloodhound, and I know if he gets a whiff of criminal activity, he won’t be able to leave it alone.
I don’t want to involve him.
Roman’s taking care of things, and I don’t need to worry the other guys with it after the shit they went through last year.
“Damn,” I say, walking over to the fridge to grab one of Torin’s cans of cold brew. “So Torin’s just skipping his summer classes this week, I guess? He always does like being the exception to any rule.”
Rayne just shrugs. “Nah. I’m in one of his classes, and trust me, that teacher loved him from day one. I’m sure he got permission.”
One of his summer courses started a week before mine did, and apparently he’s already made an impression.
I crack the can and try to act disinterested. “When is he coming back?”
“Thought he’d be back already,” Rayne says. “You sure everything is okay, Noah?”
“All good. I’ve got to go work out before I meet up with Bree and Roman.”
Rayne waggles his eyebrows at me. “Yo, Bree’s been close with you lately. Don’t fall too deep.”
I give him a smile. “I’m controlling myself.”
Lie.
Nothing with Bree will ever be more than platonic, these days.
When I don’t hear from Torin for the rest of the day, I feel some part of me going dormant, like the version of me that fooled around with Torin is finally put to rest.
The part of me that cared has to die.
He’s alive.
He left town without telling me.
And he’s not going to answer my text.
It’s over as soon as it’s started, and there’s no use trying to water a plant that was dead to begin with.
When it’s time to play strip poker with Bree and the guys, I need to let loose.
I’m going to be a social butterfly, I’m going to have fun with Bree, and remember who the fuck I am.
Wherever Torin is, it has nothing to do with me.
10
Torin
It’s strange to be at the Vancliff residence when none of the siblings are actually here.
I’m completely surrounded by so much Noah, but he isn’t even around to glare at me or blush or pretend he’s not hard… or whatever the fuck Noah Vancliff does.
I’m currently in his childhood bedroom.
Looking at a very cute stuffed animal panda that he apparently still keeps next to his pillow on the bed.
I look around the room knowing I’m on stolen time. Noah’s father is outside right now setting up the bar for our final schmoozing event of the week with Prince Fuckface Vaughn Everstrom.
I made up that first name, but it seems as fitting as any other.
Prince Vaughn is royalty from the Vaskar Coast that we’ve been courting for the last handful of days.
The fucking ridiculous combination of words in that sentence.
When Noah’s father called me asking if I’d come to the mansion this week to wine-and-dine the visiting royalty, I knew it wasn’t really a question.
I had to come.
Phillip Vancliff doesn’t really fuck around when it comes to his charities, and the prince is toying with the idea of donating millions and millions of dollars. When Phillip mentioned that I was now his stepson, the prince apparently went full fanboy on him and had to meet me.
I never thought a single photoshoot I did carrying planks of fucking wood would be so far-reaching, but apparently foreign royalty sees these things, too.
Before I had to leave Crimson, I hired a man from a private security company to tail Noah for the week.
Cost a fucking pile of money to get someone well-credentialed that quickly, but Phillip is going to pay me more than that for this week.
But I’ve realized Noah can’t be trusted to be alone.
He’s way too distractible.
Way too predictable, too.
He stops to look at butterflies along the sidewalk, and one afternoon last week I even saw him take a nap on a bench on the edge of campus.
The man literally almost got kidnapped, yet he acts like he’s immortal.
The security I hired agreed to be subtle, wear normal clothes, and make sure Noah gets everywhere okay while I’m not around to watch over him. Roman’s way too busy and vague about his own shit, and after the black Benz was able to tail Noah so easily the other day, I don’t trust Roman to protect him for shit.
He needs me.
So right now, at least I know a professional is making sure he doesn’t get offed while he’s too busy doodling hearts on his homework assignments.