Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 121460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
I most definitely didn’t want Brodan to see me as a kid, especially as there were only six weeks between us.
Pondering whether I might ever get up the courage to tell my best friend I had a massive crush on him, I was in a daydream as I wandered the hall toward one of the exits. Last bell had rung, and most pupils were rushing toward the doors as if escaping hell.
“S’cuse you.” Harry Grant threw his weight against my side, and my books and papers tumbled everywhere. My upper arm ached where I’d taken the brunt of his shove, and I glowered up at him as I lowered to my haunches to collect my things.
Harry gave me an evil smirk and turned away. Something made him stiffen, and then he dove out of the side entrance in a blur of movement.
Straight ahead stood Brodan, glowering after him.
Then my best friend was suddenly on his knees before me, helping me pick up my stuff.
“Thanks,” I muttered, taking them from him.
“Are you all right?” Brodan asked as he took hold of my elbow and helped me up.
I glanced down at his hand on me and tried not to flush like an idiot. It was Brodan. We’d been best friends since we were five. Just because I’d started getting butterflies in my stomach when he smiled at me didn’t mean I needed to act like a blushing moron around him. “I’m fine.”
When people described someone’s eyes as piercing, they were talking about Brodan. His were pale-blue and he could look right into you with them. His wee sister Arro had the same color eyes, and yet they didn’t seem to search a person’s soul like Brodan’s did. Mind you, she was only ten.
Brodan was fourteen and already six feet tall. People, even teachers, mistook him for being older all the time.
Thankfully, I’d grown used to that piercing look over the years. Kind of. “I’m fine,” I insisted.
My friend looked over his shoulder to where Harry had disappeared. Then he took my backpack from me, even though he had his own to carry. I tried to take it back the first time he’d carried it for me, but Brodan ignored me. To be fair, there were so many books in that backpack, my friend carrying it was a relief.
We were quiet as we walked outside, but then Brodan said with a gruff annoyance, “You know Harry fancies the pants off you. That’s why he’s a dick to you.”
This time, I couldn’t help the blush that stained my cheeks red.
Brodan’s eyes narrowed on my face. “But you already knew that.”
That was the problem with being friends with someone as long as I’d been friends with Brodan. We could read each other like a book. Trying to be casual about it, I shrugged. “He asked me out at the start of the year.” And had been a little shit ever since I turned him down.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” He scowled. “How come no one told me?”
Probably because they knew you’d act like an overprotective big brother. Ugh. I shrugged again. “Because I don’t fancy him, and it didn’t matter.”
The frown between Brodan’s brows didn’t ease as we walked toward the school gate where Arran waited by the bike rack.
A devil nudged at me, and I blurted out with a breeziness that belied my jealousy, “Anyway, I thought you’d be off snogging Michelle Kingsley right about now.” Brodan had been sneaking away whenever he could to get off with Michelle these past few weeks. Michelle was in the year above us, and there were rumors she was letting Brodan do way more than just snog her.
The thought made me sick.
Brodan nudged me gently. “When have I ever not walked you home?”
Never. He always walked me home. Only times he didn’t were on the rare occasions he was at home, unwell.
Arran came into view, standing with some mates at the bike rack. He was in second year and was hitting a growth spurt. He was a cutie. All the Adairs were unfairly blessed with good looks, but cursed with heartache and a crumbling old castle that might one day sink them into poverty. Not that I’d ever let anything happen to Brodan and his family if it was in my power to help.
“I’m glad you said no to Harry,” Brodan suddenly confessed.
I swear my heart somersaulted in my chest. “Why?”
“Because he’s a wee dick. You’re too good for him.” He looked down at me, his expression fierce. “You’re too good for anybody here.”
Pulse racing, I could only gape at him, wondering if he counted himself among anybody.
“Bro! Roe!”
It broke our intense eye contact as Brodan turned toward the call.
Fergus, Brodan’s friend who was in our year but looked like a first year, ran toward us, his massive backpack bouncing almost comically. Poor Fergus got terribly bullied because his family didn’t have a lot of money and also because of how small he was. The Adairs might not have money, but no one dared mess with them, mostly because the three eldest, Lachlan, Thane, and Brodan, were built like they had Viking blood. Also, their family had standing in Sutherland as landed gentry. They lived in a bloody castle on one of the biggest estates in the country. No one cared if they were technically low on funds.