Free A Son of Carver (Carver High #2) by Haven Francis

swear to God, if you say one word about my body…”
    “I’m not talking about your body which, by the way, is extremely beautiful. I’m not even talking about your blue eyes, your thick hair or your perfect skin. I’m talking about your cute smirks, your impressive eye rolls, the way you chew on your lip and how you’re always hiding behind your hair. I’m not artist, I can barely work the camera on my phone, but I’m pretty sure I’m gonna ace this class because you’re my subject matter.”
    “Jesus, Nash, you are seriously too much. I mean I get it – I can see how a speech like that would win over any girl you know but you’ve gotta stop trying to use your lines on me. It’s seriously starting to piss me off.”’
    My head actually retracts at that. There is no winning with this girl. “You really don’t believe a word that comes out of my mouth, do you? You think everything I say is just some stupid line meant to convince people that I’m likeable because, in reality, I can’t possibly be anything other than scum, right?” I stare at her, fully aware that I’m getting more worked up than I should be.  She stares back at me but says nothing. 
    “When I saw you in that class I wasn’t any less annoyed than you were, but I told you I would try with you. And I believe you told me the same thing. But I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who’s actually doing it. I’ve been nice to you, I’ve taken two days out of my weekend to prove to you that I’m taking this seriously because you told me you needed that from me, I’ve tried getting to know you, I even tried being a friend to you. And every time you make it clear that you hate everything about me I find some reason to justify why that is and I let it go because I’m trying to get somewhere with you. But we’re never gonna get anywhere if you’re constantly pissed off at me for no damn reason. I can’t even give you a genuine compliment without you making me feel like a piece of crap.”
    She flares her nostrils and shakes her head.
    Presley’s never been able to keep her mouth shut. She’s got an opinion about everything and everyone, especially me. I didn’t think anything could be more annoying. But this is. Her refusal to acknowledge anything I say like I don’t even deserve her words is way more annoying than a litany of insults.  
    Forget it. I grab my bag off her bed and head out the door.
    I’ve made it five feet down the hall when a hand reaches out and grabs me, pulling me through a doorway and before I can blink, Jolee’s got both of her greedy hands tangled in my t-shirt.
    Between my family and Presley, my tolerance for stupid, childish humans is at an all-time low. I take her hands off me, but she hooks onto my belt loops and pulls her half-naked body into mine. She’s wearing nothing but a pink lace bra and thong and even that can’t make me stay in this house for one more second. “You’re not leaving already, are you?”
    I pry her fingers off my pants and tell her, “I’m not in the mood.” I try to turn but she grabs a hold of my backpack strap and turns me back around. “You seem upset. You know I can make you feel better.”
    I’m ready to physically harm the girl. My hands grab onto her waist and I pick her up, moving her two feet away from me before setting her back down. I lean in and tell her, “Put your hands on me one more fucking time and I might hurt you. I’m turning around, walking out your door and you’re going to let me go. You understand that?”
    “What the hell, Nash,” she mutters, taking a voluntary step away from me.
    With that, I’m gone.

6
     
     
     
    I haven’t talked to Nash all week. He’s no longer interested in being nice to me or getting to know me and I feel the same way.
    He has a talent for spewing crap that makes me think he’s human and then proving me wrong two minutes later. I have to stop falling for his shit.
    Two seconds after he left my room, just minutes