♡AN ENEMIES-TO-LOVERS ROMANCE♡
Attending the same college is the only thing Sebastian Hutches and Tara Van Doren have in common.
To Sebastian, Tara is a rich, spoiled girl, obsessed with her looks and status.
To Tara, Sebastian is a rude, arrogant...
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I blame my interrupted sleep on the culprit of soreness between my thighs, who's sleeping next to me, naked.
His toned body beckons me, tempting me to touch and kiss every inch. I contemplate doing that, but he needs to rest.
My fingers wrap around the chain Bast gave me, and tenderness floods my insides as I watch him for a few instants. I cover him with the sheet and grab my phone from the nightstand. It's a little after six a.m., but I feel weirdly energized. Carefully, I slip out of bed and pad to the en suite to freshen up and get dressed.
When I finish putting on my sweats, the screen of my phone lights up. Who'd be texting me this early? An ugly feeling hits me as I take the cell from the vanity and unlock it.
Sadie: Rise and shine.
Sadie: It's a beautiful day outside.
Sadie: Hurry, I'm waiting.
Sadie: Ten…
My heart chills. I stare at the texts, and beads of cold sweat form on the back of my neck.
The phone comes alive once more.
Sadie: Nine… I've waited long enough. Don't make me waste more time.
It's a joke. A sick, twisted joke. Except only the person who killed Sadie can have her phone, and they're here. They found us.
I step out of the bathroom and glance at Bast. Then I forward the texts to his dad and march down the hallway to the foyer.
I need to keep them away from Sebastian so he can get into the car and drive to get help. I need him to be safe. As I walk out of the house and stand on the porch, it hits me I have no clue where the nearest town is.
I have no clue where the person who wants me dead is.
Until the next message.
Sadie: Eight. Walk past the fire pit to the oak tree.
Clutching my phone, I advance toward the place where Bast and I spent one of the best evenings of my life. The memories ground me, and my breaths become less shallow.
But my legs quiver. My hands sweat. I should've grabbed a knife. Something to defend myself, but now it's too late.
The morning is still and gray. Each step of mine thuds in the quiet, silencing the irregular beats of my heart.
I halt by the oak tree and look at the house over my shoulder. If Bast wakes up, wondering where I am, he'll see me. He'll have time to call the police.
“Let him sleep,” a familiar voice whispers.
A mix of dread and incredulity seeps into my pores, hindering my ability to move.
Blanche steps from behind the thick trunk of an oak tree. A grin stretches her thin lips, but her stare is cold and unblinking. “Good morning, Tara.”
