Boys That Read: A High School Romance (Lords of Wildwood Book 2) Read online

  BOYS THAT READ

  A HIGH SCHOOL ROMANCE

  BETTI ROSEWOOD

  CONTENTS

  Boys That Read

  1. Date: October 20th, 2018, 4 a.m

  2. Date: October 20th, 2018, 5 a.m

  3. Date: October 20th, 2018, 10 a.m

  4. Date: September 3rd, 2019, 9 a.m.

  5. Date: September 3rd, 2019, 11 a.m.

  6. Date: September 3rd, 2019, 4 p.m.

  7. Date: September 3rd, 2019, 7.30 p.m.

  8. Date: September 7th, 2019, 6.47 p.m.

  9. Date: September 8th, 2019, 10 a.m.

  10. Date: September 12th, 2019, 6.47 p.m.

  11. Date: September 12th, 2019, 11 p.m.

  12. Date: September 12th, 2019, 11 p.m.

  13. Date: September 15th, 2019, 10 a.m.

  14. Date: September 16th, 2019, 7 p.m.

  15. Date: September 17th, 2019, 9 a.m.

  16. Date: September 17th, 2019, 9.30 a.m.

  17. Date: September 17th, 2019, 7 p.m.

  18. Date: September 17th, 2019, 9.30 p.m.

  19. Date: September 17th, 2019, 10.25 p.m.

  20. Date: September 23rd, 2019, 5 p.m.

  21. Date: October 1st, 2019, 7 p.m.

  22. Date: October 15th, 2019, 11 a.m.

  23. Date: October 16th, 2019, 4 p.m.

  24. Date: December 16th, 2019, 4.pm.

  25. Date: December 17th, 2019, 9 a.m.

  26. Date: December 17th, 2019, 9 a.m.

  27. Date: December 21st, 2019, 9 a.m.

  28. Date: December 25th, 2019, 8 a.m.

  29. Date: January 5th, 2020, 9.30 p.m.

  Date: July 30th, 2021, sunset

  Sneak peek of A Hurt So Sweet

  About the Author

  Also by Betti Rosewood

  BOYS THAT READ

  DEDICATION

  To every broken and damaged soul out there,

  Because you deserve to be happy.

  xo Betti

  Cover photography by Brice Hardelin

  Cover model Samuel Rousseau

  Cover design by Louisa Maggio of LM Creations

  Editing by T with The Plot Thickens

  1

  DATE: OCTOBER 20TH, 2018, 4 A.M

  LOCATION: TINSLEY’S BIRTHDAY PARTY

  MILO

  I deserve to be accepted to Eastvale because...

  The words stared at me from the lined notepad paper, mocking me. I crumpled up the empty sheet with a groan, tossing it to the trash can in the corner of my room and missing it. For fuck's sake. I turned my attention back to my computer where an equally unfinished draft was waiting for me to add my reasons for wanting to get into the college of my dreams. Why did I think writing it by hand would be easier?

  Everyone just lies on those goddamn essays, Milo, my brother's voice echoed in my head from hours earlier, when he'd been setting out for a party and I was still stuck on that same fucking question. Why can't you just make something up?

  It was all so easy for my brother. He’d always been the kind of easygoing guy who didn’t care whether he got into the college of his dreams – or a college at all. Our parents’ success with their food delivery app Yummers was enough to get him an entry ticket into any school he wanted. But I didn’t want to get in just because my parents had money. I wanted my acceptance letter to matter.

  It felt wrong to even consider it. I wasn't an emotional guy. I was the rock of the family. The rational one. And I was going to get this stupid essay done if it was the last thing I did.

  Despite my best intentions, I found myself reaching for my phone and flopping down on the bed as I scrolled through my notifications. Thirsty cheerleaders, hopeful geeks and a couple of lacrosse buddies had slid into my DM’s. Nothing new. The prospect of going to Eastvale was the brightest spot in my future. Nothing else excited me. Life was boring when you had it all. Mind-numbingly boring.

  There's got to be something I can put on that goddamn page, I told myself. Something about growing up with gay Dads, learning the importance of family, blah-the-fucking-blah. But the thought didn't stick. My mind raced through idea after idea, but nothing stood out. I sighed in frustration, running my hand through my raven hair and pushing my glasses higher on the bridge of my nose. Fuck Eastvale, and fuck this essay.

  Once again, I remembered the invite to Tinsley Sullivan's birthday party I'd gotten that week. Everyone was going to be there, and even I'd allowed myself the option of showing up. But not like this, with the essay unfinished and feeling pissed at myself for not knowing what to write. The deadline for the early admissions was the next morning, and I'd already blown off Miss James with excuse after excuse, forcing her to give me her home address so I could deliver the printed pages in the morning. But nothing helped, not even the impending feeling of doom, knowing it was four a.m. and I had barely even gotten started.

  Switching my attention from the empty document on my PC and my phone, I tried to find something that would distract me. A sliver of inspiration, a picture that would jolt my mind like it usually happened. But there was nothing, not even in the vast wasteland of the internet, that could make me write that fucking essay. I was well and truly exhausted, drained by that one question that made me want to write the truth.

  I don't deserve to be accepted to Eastvale at all.

  My phone pinged with a notification, and I picked it up, glancing at the screen.

  Are you still up? I texted Natan. but he isn't replying.

  Another groan, another roll of my eyes. Just what I need. A selfish, spoiled princess asking for yet another favor that she'll never pay the fuck back.

  No, I'm asleep, I typed in response, pausing for a moment before adding the last part. Why, are you currently in a life-threatening situation?

  Because there’s no other way in hell I’m getting up for you otherwise.

  The answer came back in a second, making me smirk at the thought of her typing it out at a breakneck pace. Yes. You'd better come get me. And bring some burgers.

  The entitlement is real, huh? No, forget it.

  Please, Milo! I’ll owe you forever.

  How about you don’t owe me at all, and you just let me go back to sleep.

  I still remember your insomnia, jerk, she wrote. Don’t lie to me.

  Not lying. If I come pick you up, you owe me one. Got it?

  Her reply came a minute later. I could just picture her fidgeting with her phone, trying to think of something clever to say in response.

  Got it. I owe you one. Anything you want. Deal?

  Not waiting for her reply, I tossed my phone to the side, walking over to my door and tiptoeing down the hallway to my brother's room. I wanted to give her some time to stew. If I let her wait a little longer, she’d be really desperate for me to come and get her, and I could cash in big on that favor.

  I pressed my ear against the door and waited until I heard Natan’s peaceful snoring. Peculiar. What is he doing home? Shouldn’t he be with his girlfriend?

  I went back to my room and found my phone again. Three new messages were waiting.

  Please Milo? I'll pay you back for the burgers.

  Fine, I'll come with you to get them. And you can have the mozzarella sticks as well. NONE of that disgusting ranch dressing though.

  MILOOOOOOO I need you please... You can't just leave me stranded on the side of the road like this!

  I rolled my eyes as I replied, Anyone ever tell you what a princess you are?

  Only you and I cherish it dearly, amigo ;)

  I looked at the empty screen again, sighing as I te
xted her to tell me the address. In a second, she sent me her location using the app. I only hesitated for a moment before grabbing my lacrosse jacket and putting it on. I could've woken up Natan. I should've woken up Natan. After all, he was her boyfriend, not me. But something stopped me, maybe the desperate need for a hint, a smidge of inspiration. I left everything as it was and got downstairs, past my Dads’ bedroom, where they were both sleeping soundly.

  Everything was peaceful outside. My brother's car, a gleaming Escalade, was a sharp contrast to my own, a fucked-up cherry Benz that I named Gertie, which I'd insisted on paying for by myself.

  Statistics say most accidents happen in your first car, and I didn't want to risk fucking up a nice car. Better that the accident happened in a beaten down piece of shit I had no problem saying goodbye to once I inevitably trashed it. Though, if I was being honest with myself, I'd gotten weirdly attached to Gertie since I'd had her.

  I added the address Estella had given me to my phone, put on some tunes, and started driving to my destination. It was the same address Tinsley had given out for her party, and I was assuming Stells had stayed until the very last moment. Weird, given that brother dearest was already back home snoring up a storm.

  It took about fifteen minutes to show up at the address, and when I did, I saw a hunched-over form on the sidewalk. Her dark brown hair was all over her face, and she was wearing this tiny sequin dress that left exactly nothing to the imagination.

  I pulled up next to her and opened the door, and she got into the car groaning.

  "Rough night?" I raised my eyebrows at her.

  "You have no clue." She kept rubbing her wrist, where a white circle of skin decorated her otherwise tanned complexion. "Clancy's?"

  "Oh right, they have that drive-in thing now," I remembered. "Yeah. But you're paying. And I am getting ranch."

  "Ugh, gross," she rolled her eyes, strapping herself into the seat when I gave her a warning glance. "Yeah, yeah, I'll put my seatbelt on. God, Milo, you're such a Dad."

  I started driving to our local hang-out place while she toyed with the music.

  "You have horrendous music taste," she informed me.

  "You wouldn’t know good taste if it bit you in the ass, Princess. But man, do you know how to turn on the charm.”

  "I don't need to charm you." She flashed me a brilliant smile. "You came to pick me up, didn't you? P.S., Nobody calls me Princess anymore. That nickname died back in 2014.”

  “Just like our friendship?” I couldn’t help but bite back.

  She gave me a wounded look. “How can you say that?”

  “Please,” I scoffed. As if it isn’t true. You dropped me and Pandora the moment you decided we weren’t cool enough for you.”

  “You know nothing, Jon Snow.”

  "Whatever."

  I pulled into the driveway of Clancy's and she leaned out the window to order our food, offering me a view of her plump little ass and the thong that barely covered anything. I looked away, feeling a little sick that I’d even looked. "Yeah hi, two cheeseburgers, two orders of large fries, some mozzarella sticks, a chocolate milkshake and a strawberry one. And... ranch dressing. Two packs." She made a face at me before sitting back down in the car. "I hope you're happy."

  "Very." I liked that she knew what I wanted without even asking. I pulled to the next window and we waited for our food to be prepared, while she kept toying with the empty spot on her wrist. "Why do you keep picking at your hand like that?"

  She glanced down at her wrist as if she'd only just realized she'd been doing it. "Oh. I didn’t even notice I was doing it. It’s whatever.”

  We got our food, and I drove to a spot in the parking lot so we could eat. She dug into her cheeseburger like a woman possessed while I dipped my fries in the ranch.

  "Tell me."

  "Tell you what?"

  "You used to wear something there," I motioned to her wrist. "Like this weird bracelet."

  "Why do you even know that, weirdo?"

  "You always played with it. Where'd it go?"

  "I took it off," she mumbled reluctantly. "I left it there, at Tinsley's."

  "Why?"

  "Because... ugh, do you have to ask the most annoying questions?"

  "Yeah, it's like, my specialty."

  "It was a friendship bracelet." She swallowed a bite of the burger, pushing away the rest. "She's not my friend anymore."

  "Why not?"

  "Because I said so," she barked. "Can you stop interrogating me?"

  "Whatever," I shrugged, finishing my fries. "You done?" She stewed in her seat, refusing to look at me. “Come on, Stells. Don’t be such a downer.”

  “Ugh.”

  “Ugh what?”

  “Ugh nothing. Can we go?”

  “No.” I gave her a wicked grin. “Hey, why am I driving you home instead of Natan? Given that he’s snoring like a goddamn chainsaw in his room, I’m guessing you didn’t leave the party together.”

  “I stayed a bit later,” she muttered. “So.”

  “So.” I wagged my brows at her. “You and my brother. You official now?”

  “I… I’m not sure. I guess?”

  “How can you not be sure?”

  “He hasn’t asked.”

  “What are you, twelve?” I laughed. “He has to ask you to be with him officially?”

  “It would be nice,” she muttered.

  “Well, you’re expecting too much from Nate,” I told her.

  “Maybe. We’ll see.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Huh?” She looked at me, her eyes glazed over, as if she’d been thinking of something else. “Nothing, forget it.”

  "Do I drop you off at home now?"

  "Whatever."

  "A thank you would be nice."

  "A fuck you seems more appropriate."

  “You’re so goddamn rude, Estella,” I told her, starting up the car. “Someone really ought to teach you some manners. Just remember how you acted today next time you need a goddamn favor. Because I’m sure as hell not gonna be there to pick you up when you fall.”

  “Don’t need you.”

  “Fine by me,” I grunted. “Better, even. I don’t have time to deal with your bratty ass.”

  “Hey Milo,” she purred. “You still play chess?”

  I fought the urge to stomp on the brakes and kick her out of Gertie. “Why do you care?”

  “Because if I recall correctly, I always used to win when we played.”

  “I’m the county’s champion,” I hissed at her. “I got first place at-”

  “How nice.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “You never did manage to win against me, though.”

  I sighed, giving her a sideways glance. “You still play?”

  “No,” she muttered. “Not for a while.”

  “Well, when you start again, I’d gladly take that bratty ass of yours for a spin.”

  “Gross.” She couldn’t help the smile on her face. “Why are you so obsessed with my butt?”

  Maybe because you’re walking around in a skirt short enough to make any man lose his mind?

  “Maybe because you’re sticking it in my face. The world doesn’t need to know you’re wearing a thong, Estella.”

  She blushed, muttering, “You shouldn’t be looking.”

  I was about to speak up, but I changed my mind, waving my hand dismissively. “Fine, I shouldn’t have.” She’s right. She’s about as off-limits as it gets. “I guess that joy is all Natan’s now.”

  She muttered something under her breath.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You think I’m that easy?” she asked. The question wasn’t accusatory, but almost sad. “You think I let just anyone… you know…”

  “Don’t you?” She didn’t answer. “You and Crispin didn’t…?”

  She shook her head. “No, of course not.”

  “But you and Natan…” She glared, making me grin like a fool. “I see.”

  �
�It’s not funny.”

  “It is a little,” I grinned before turning serious again. “Stells… Why do you put on this face for everyone?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Come on, you know what I mean. You’re not… you’re not Estella Hernandez anymore.”

  “No,” she shook her head. “Not for a while now.”

  “And it’s not just because your dad changed your last name,” I insisted. “You’re… not you anymore.”

  “Of course I am.”

  “You’re hiding,” I said. “From the world.”

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  I glanced at her out of the corner of my eyes. She was staring out the window, her arms crossed, and her eyes glazed over. I knew then I shouldn’t push her any further.

  Thankfully, we were close to her place, and she stopped me a couple of blocks over.

  “Here is fine.”

  “But we’re still two blocks away.”

  “It’s cool, I can walk home.”

  “Stells.” I laughed in disbelief. “Don’t tell me you’re still doing the same thing as five years ago? The old routine every time you came home?”

  “So what if I am?” She was defensive already, so I knew I’d struck gold. “It’s none of your business, anyway.”

  I didn't argue, pulling to the side of the fancy neighborhood, a little nicer than the one I lived in, though my home wasn’t half bad either, with a glass guest house and a hot tub I got to share with my brother. I guess it paid off having a celebrity Dad like Estella did, even if he was strict as all fuck.

  She got out of the car and I waited before glancing at her out the window. "You gonna be okay?"

  "Yeah. She glanced in the direction of her house, and something passed her face, a brief look of fear that made me worried.

  "Want me to walk you home?"

  "No. Yeah. No." She sighed, digging her heels into the concrete sidewalk. "Ugh. Fine. If you have to. God, I hate these.” She reached down, unbuckling the little straps on her sandals and taking them off. She held them in her hand and walked ahead of me.

  I stopped the car and got out. The night wasn’t over yet, and I was still just as desperate for inspiration as I’d been when she first got in the car.