Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 96957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
“Just shut the fuck up.”
His pie hole shut, but his eyes narrowed. I’d seen that look too many times and nothing good ever came from it. “Watch it, boy.”
I bit the hell out of my tongue and swallowed hard.
“Now … you have two weeks. Just in time for the holidays. I’m tempted to say that pretty little head of hers would be my first choice for a souvenir, but I’ve always left that part—no pun intended—up to you.” He stood, tapping his lighter on the table a few times.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Livy
“It’s just sick,” I floated on my board next to Kara and Missy, watching Aiden, my favorite OG (Original Gangster) catch the next wave.
“Um … is that who I think it is?” Missy asked, glancing over her shoulder toward the shore.
I followed her line of sight to my guy and my dog on the beach. He looked completely out of place in his jeans and boots.
“Thought it was a girls’ night,” Kara said.
“It is.” I turned and paddled inward, catching the end of a wave that took me to shore. “I texted you.” I grinned, heading up the beach with my board.
“I know.” He slipped his hands in his front pockets as I parked my board in the sand and wrung out my hair.
“So what’s up? You clearly didn’t come to surf.”
“I’m crashing your girls’ night.”
“Crashing?” I narrowed my eyes. “As in joining us?”
“As in taking you home.”
“Why?” I reached around and unzipped my wet suit.
“Because Jerry said he wants us to grab takeout and do something like watch a movie.”
Pausing with one arm out of my wet suit, my jaw unhinged. He didn’t say that. It was his body, but those weren’t his words. “Who are you? Jerry? Takeout and a movie? What gives? This isn’t you. This isn’t the guy who complimented me on my lack of neediness.”
“Fine. I want to tie you up and bury my face between your legs. Better?”
I coughed a laugh and glanced around to see how many people were in earshot. “You said you were the guy who made sure no one ever tied me up.” Pulling my other arm out of my wet suit, I gave him a lifted eyebrow in a question of his own words and new intentions.
“I’m trying really hard to be…” his lips twisted “…amicable and persuasive.”
Pushing the wet suit down to my hips, I glanced up. “Amicable? What exactly is the alternative to you being amicable with me?”
He squinted against the sun, peering over my shoulder for a few moments. “You’re the straight-A student. You tell me, what’s the opposite of amicable?”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I trapped my lip between my teeth until he returned his focus to me. “Unfriendly. Hostile. Are you suggesting if I don’t go home with you now, things will get unfriendly? Hostile?”
“Affirmative.”
“Go home, Wylder. I’ll be home later … or tomorrow.” I bent down and kissed Jerry on the head. “Daddy’s a little cray cray tonight, isn’t he?”
“I’ll wait.”
“Wait for what?” I trudged through the sand to my bag and retrieved my water, taking a long swig.
“You.”
“Yeah, that’s what I said. Go home and wait for me.” I shoved my water bottle back into my bag and grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer until he gave me his mouth for a quick kiss. “Love you. I’ll text you if I end up staying at Aubrey’s.” I turned, heading back to my board while righting the sleeves of my wet suit and worming my arms back into it.
After another hour of surfing, we headed to my Jeep, giggling, and wiped out from a full Saturday at the beach.
“Whoa … stalker much?” Missy nodded to Slade’s black Volvo parked on the other side of my Jeep.
“Something’s up. This isn’t him.” I shook my head.
“Here. We’ve got it.” Missy nodded to my board.
I propped it against the Jeep and peeled my wet suit off. Slipping on my sweatshirt, I made my way to his window.
He rolled it down. “Get in. Let one of your friends take your Jeep.”
I leaned forward, resting my arms on the door. “What aren’t you telling me?” Genuine concern delivered my words.
“Get in, Livy.”
“I’m not getting in unless you give me a reason to get in.”
He rubbed his temples then dropped his hands to the steering wheel, looking straight ahead. “I’ll give you two questions. You can ask me two things … anything … and I’ll give you an honest answer.”
Desperate Wylder. He took lives. That was his job. He lived in a haunted house. He feared nothing. So why could I feel his desperation?
“Fine. But you answer one right now.”
He turned his head toward me.
“Why are you so desperate for me to come with you right now?”
“Because I feel an intense need to protect you.”
“From what?”
“Is that your second and last question?”