Total pages in book: 186
Estimated words: 176552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 883(@200wpm)___ 706(@250wpm)___ 589(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 883(@200wpm)___ 706(@250wpm)___ 589(@300wpm)
I didn’t know what to make of Ryder’s behavior lately. For the past two weeks, it had been a consistent push and pull. Heat and silence. Extra touches like last night on the field, his hand brushing mine when it didn’t need to, the way his voice dropped just low enough to get a rise out of me. The comments. The looks. It was all too intentional, but nothing with Ryder Voss was simple. Every word felt like a test. Every touch, a dare.
I hadn’t even told him about the creep under the tree just now. I was so tangled up in the what-are-we and what-the-fuck-are-you-doing of it all, I’d forgotten to mention the very thing that should’ve had my full attention. Both of us being in relationships didn’t seem to deter him anymore. That was one of the worst things about his change of heart. He never acted this way when we were both single.
Not once.
It was like the second a real line was drawn—boyfriend, girlfriend, boundaries—he picked up a blade and sliced through every piece of it meant to keep us apart. What was the end goal here?
Even if Ryder wasn’t with Brooke, if he was just the beautiful, infuriating boy I loved boldly out loud and deeply in silence, we could never be together. I had made peace with that. At least, I thought I had. Now I was trying to figure out how to live with it, and he was steamrolling my efforts. Should I have been furious? Hurt? Offended?
I wasn’t.
I was unsettled and frustrated, but my anger was hard to pinpoint. I wondered if he only wanted me now because I did finally have a boyfriend. What if all those glances we’d shared were nothing more than moments I’d romanticized? Maybe I was the only one haunted by them. Guilt hit fast and sharp for even thinking Ryder would do that to me when he’d never once made me feel like anything less than special to him. I felt even guiltier thinking about any of this when I had Ashton, who had no idea what was coming.
Yes. I was a mess.
Cloe glanced over as if she could sense the turmoil brewing within me. I offered her the best smile I could muster, which wasn't convincing and wouldn't fool her for a single second. I returned my attention to the whiteboard and forced myself to pay attention. My personal life might’ve been circling the drain, but I couldn’t afford to let my academic one go with it.
After my morning classes, the mere thought of lunch nearly brought me to my knees with tears of joy. Earlier, I had startled some poor guy in the west wing as I hurried past, shoving huge bites of the muffin Ryder gave me into my mouth. That provided temporary relief, but once it wore off, the hunger pangs returned with a vengeance, along with my sleep deprivation. Food was my only salvation after enduring back-to-back lectures. Thankfully, there was no cheer practice today, or I’d be completely flatlined.
Cloe and I left our final elective together, joined by Olivia and, surprisingly, Meghan, who was also in our class. I wasn’t sure why Meghan decided to tag along since we hardly spoke on a good day, but the atmosphere was light, and our conversation flowed easily as we made our way to the dining hall.
“Are you still seeing Ashton Hayes, Sanj?”
“Yes?” That sounded more like a question than I intended, and part of me considered telling her she hadn't earned the right to shorten my name like that.
Cloe did the honors instead. “When did you get the right to use her nickname?”
She blinked, clearly taken aback. “Oh! Sorry. I always hear Olivia call her that.”
Olivia laughed. “Because Miss Girl and I are friends. We met in our senior year at Hemlock High, and she's been stuck with me ever since.”
I tilted my head with a grin. "I think being stuck is something we both agreed on."
Olivia Martinez was unforgettable. Bold, unapologetic, and vibrantly loud in the most delightful way. She was a gorgeous, curvy woman and embraced everything about herself. I could vividly remember the day we met—in PE class. She told me her name while adjusting her sports bra in the middle of the pacer test, declared herself my new friend, and then proceeded to tell the gym teacher all about himself for making us run in the heat. I’d liked her immediately.
Olivia caught my expression and winked, her lips curling into a mischievous grin. “You’re lucky I picked you,” she teased, flipping her shoulder-length hair. “Could’ve chosen someone basic.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”
Realizing I might have come off as a bit harsh to the other girl, I turned to Meghan with a warm smile, trying to soften my tone. “Why do you ask, though?” I asked, curious despite myself.