Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 146605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 489(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 489(@300wpm)
Me: Going to tell my sister you’re taking pictures of other girls in swimsuits.
Me: Delete it.
He doesn't respond. I’m sure he’s laughing his ass off at me. If it was anyone else I'd be pissed, but I know Ace only has eyes for Faith and it’s merely to get my ass moving.
The drive isn't long to get to the party, but I have to park pretty far back. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it this packed here before in the few times I’ve come by. Faith usually has to drag me out of the house in order to get me to be social or try to get me to date someone.
I only attract two types of girls: ones that want to piss their daddies off or ones who think they know my type. They are looking for something dark in the bedroom. I don’t get off on hurting women. In fact, seeing a woman be hurt is when I tend to lose control. Men overpowering them because they know they are bigger isn’t something I’m into. Maybe it’s because I know what that feels like.
I push my way into the house. People are freaking everywhere. I don’t recognize a lot of them. Other high schools must have been invited, and there may even be some people from the university here too. It’s only a matter of time before the police show up.
I pass through the kitchen where people are taking shots and playing beer pong, making a beeline straight for the backyard to the pool. The picture Ace sent was of Faith and Whitney standing side by side smiling in their bathing suits. If they are even considered that. Faith was in a one-piece, but Whitney was in a freaking bikini which left nothing to the imagination. Her perfect body was on full display for everyone to see. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’m just being a selfish prick who wants to be the only that’s seeing.
I try to check my anger before I find them. It’s a bikini. It’s no big deal. Girls wear them all the time. It’s stupid to be jealous over it. I did take note that my sister was in a one-piece, which I’m sure is because of Ace. Fucker. He knew what he was doing when he sent that picture.
I spot Ace first. He’s got his back to me, facing the area marked off for dancing in front of the DJ booth. I follow his line of sight to see Faith dancing with my Whitney. I stop walking to watch her sway her hips to the music. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are a bit glassy. She’s been drinking.
“Ace,” I growl.
“What?” He doesn't even spare me a glance, his eyes staying trained on the girls as they dance.
“They’re drinking?”
“They had a few frozen drinks. They're fine. I’m watching them.” He shrugs. Again, I try to remind myself to cool it. I run my hand down my face.
“How is she?” I hate that I have to ask Ace this question.
“Quiet, but she always is. She loosened up after the two drinks she had. Faith got her to dance.”
As much as I want to storm over there and throw her over my shoulder and leave with her, I don’t. She’s smiling and having fun. So I stand there and watch, unable to take my eyes off of her.
“How do you do this all the time?” I ask.
“It’s not always easy, but nothing worth having is.” I grunt my agreement.
I don’t know if she feels me staring at her, but she turns my way. Her eyes lock with mine. They widen for a moment before she jerks herself around, giving me her back.
“You’re really in the doghouse. This whole kissing ass and begging for forgiveness is new to you, I’m guessing.” I cut him a glare that does nothing to Ace. “Eyes up.”
I snap my gaze right back to Whitney, searching for what Ace is alerting me to. I spot two fuckers in polo shirts with their collars popped up letting me know they’re extra douchey. They’ve got their eyes locked on our girls whispering to each other. I’m sure coming up with some stupid plan to divide and conquer. I almost feel sorry for them. Ace is calm and collected… until he’s not.
When they make their move, we do the same. At this rate I’m never getting out of the doghouse.
11
WHITNEY
I keep dancing, moving my body to the beat of the music. I want to peek over my shoulder to see if Knox is standing there watching me or if he’s gone. It takes all my willpower to keep my focus on Faith. It works until I see her brows raise all the way up as she stares at something over my shoulder.