Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
“I hope we never see each other again. Forget you ever knew me, and I’ll do the same.”
If Vivian could have taken back those words, she would have. She knew words had power to hurt, goodness knew she did. Simon's dismissal over the years had stung, but telling him she never wanted to see him again was the last words she uttered before tragedy struck.
Now, waking up from his coma, he may never remember the cruel words she spat in his face that fateful night, but the guilt ate her alive. Could they move on from the weekend he can’t remember, and she can’t forget?
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter One
Simon
I speed down the road on my motorcycle, going for my morning ride. I drive through town for a good hour while everyone is just beginning their day. I see some of my family and friends out and about, but there is one person I’m hoping is where she’s supposed to be. I ride past Law’s house, catching sight of Trouble’s vehicle parked outside. That gives me a little peace of mind that she’s home. We’re on winter break from school, and soon I’ll head back to finish my automotive engineering degree while she finishes her senior year of high school. She turns eighteen next month.
As much as I love staying home, I can’t wait to get back—and Trouble is the only reason. She’s the reason I lie awake at night, ride on my motorcycle more than I should, work out twenty hours a week, and call home way too fucking much.
I have way too many opportunities to run into Vivian Lawrence over the coming weeks, especially if we do a large Steele Riders holiday feast. I roll my eyes just thinking about that. I love my friends and family, but seeing Vivian is fucking torture. The day she turned sixteen was like a damn switch flipped on me, and then I’d been so obsessed that I snarled at every boy and man that breathed near her until I spoke to her father that summer.
It’s been almost two years of obsession, and I can’t do anything about it. What’s worse is that I know she wants me as much as I want her. In fact, she’s done her best to flirt with me as often as possible, teasing me to the point that I almost kissed her. Instead, I insulted her and told her to go home and grow up. Sometimes I regret those words, and sometimes they’re the only thing keeping the distance between us.
I pulled into the auto body shop lot and parked my bike. As I do, my dad calls out and says, “What’s up, Son? It’s good to see you here so early.”
“Yeah, early,” I scoff, checking my watch. It’s already ten, and they’ve all been here for three hours at least.
“Well, you’re on vacation,” he reminds me, like he has for the past several days. It’s a force of habit, I suppose. Working hard is something that’s been ingrained in me since I was a little kid, and he has no one to blame but himself.
“I need to earn my spending money,” I tease. He gives me money to spend while I’m away, but I don’t do shit besides focus on my obsession, and that doesn’t cost a dime. Besides, we all have trust funds, and I’ve been earning my keep for years working in the shop. He’s been storing money away for me since I was ten.
“Come on. I’ve got an engine to rebuild. Show me what you’ve learned.” I smirk and rub my hands together. This is going to be a great day.
We work hard for the next two hours, and I lose some of my outerwear until I’m down to my undershirt and jeans. It’s the middle of December, but it doesn’t matter because we’re just south of Dallas, so it’s in the mid-sixties.
My dad and I are having a blast.
“Need a drink?” he asks me.
“Yeah,” I answered from under the engine block. We’re taking our time because we can. I know it as much as he does. Yes, there are other projects on my father’s list, but we don’t spend that much time together anymore. I love my dad, and one day I’d love to share this with my son, if I have one.
He hands me a cold glass of sweet tea that I’m sure my mom prepared for us. “This is perfect.”
“Tell me about it. That woman is a godsend,” he says with a happy sigh. When I look at Vivian, that’s what I see and feel. It’s like the happiness my parents share. My chest burns with an ache I can’t explain, and I want to be with her.
I set the glass down and pick up a wrench, getting back to work. We’re almost done when something catches my attention out of the corner of my eye.
“Uh-oh,” I grumble, picking up my grease towel and wiping my hands while staring at the front. At least once a week, she makes a damn excuse to come to the shop. She doesn’t even have a problem with her car, so there is no reason for her to be here. If she did have an issue, her father or brother would bring it in. It’s bullshit, and it’s a distraction I don’t need.
“What is it?” my father asks, following my gaze.
“Trouble.” My attention is laser focused on the door. Standing there is the most beautiful and most frustrating girl ever—Vivian. She’s been following me around everywhere, trying to draw me in so that I would make a critical error that would get us both in trouble; hence the reason I forever call her Trouble.