The Pretender - Cora Brent Page 0,17
brain for a spin with no warning.
Kent jerks his head. “Get your ass over there to spot me on the bench.”
He doesn’t wait for me to agree. He heads for the bench and strips off his shirt. He doesn’t really need me to spot him but if the coach catches anyone not following safety measures there’s all kinds of hell to pay and it’s just not worth the drama.
I stand by while Kent begins pumping out a set, lifting over three hundred pounds worth of weight with so little effort he might as well have been lifting cardboard.
He’s hardly broken a sweat by the time he’s done and he wipes down the bench with his shirt. “Hold on, Beltran. I’ll take off some of that weight so you don’t hurt yourself.”
“Fuck you,” I grumble and get positioned.
I can handle the weight, although my arms feel like gelatin by the time I finish the set and sit up. Meanwhile, Kent stands beside me and blabs on and on about all the creative ways he plans to screw his pretty girlfriend tonight.
He pauses when I stand and snatch my backpack off the floor. “You taking off already?”
“Yeah, I’m working tonight so I’ve got to go catch the bus back to paradise.”
He yawns. “So what’s going on in Devil Valley this weekend?”
I shrug. “Nothing good. Just as well. I’ll be on the clock tonight, tomorrow and Sunday.”
He twirls his sweaty shirt into a rope and snaps it in my direction. “Your dick is gonna shrivel up if you don’t find it a playmate soon.”
“Don’t worry so much about my dick.” I flip him off. “See ya Monday.”
“Later, asshole.”
On my way into the locker room I nearly collide with Landon Blackwood. He gives me a nod of acknowledgement before throwing out an invitation to a party tomorrow night. Blackwood has always been cool with me but I don’t feel like explaining to the celebrity god of Black Mountain that I need to work so I tell him I’ll try to make it.
After a quick shower I check my phone, which is operational again now that I’ve scraped together the money to pay the overdue bill. A curse hisses out of my mouth when I realize I have about thirty seconds to grab my shit and dash to the bus stop. If I don’t make it I’ll miss work and be stuck in Black Mountain until the next bus shows up in two hours.
My hair is wet and I don’t have time to yank on my jacket. The bus pulls up to the corner just as I exit the front doors of the main building and I wave my hand in the air before accelerating to a sprint across the grass.
When I get closer I notice that Camden is there, just inside the open bus doors, paused with one foot on the first step. She says something to the driver and turns around just as I catch up.
“You almost didn’t make it,” she informs me in her starchy Queen Of All Knowledge tone. Now that we work together I get to listen to it a lot more than I’d like to.
My favorite response is to stare at her and say nothing while picturing her on her knees with a mouthful of my dick.
I do this now. I do not feel even slightly guilty.
Camden tosses her curtain of almost-blonde hair and ascends the steps. She does have insanely sexy legs. Jerking off to dirty mental pictures of Camden Galway has become a steady habit of mine over the past two weeks but that’s because she’s now all over my life. She’s on the bus, she’s in the classroom and she’s a fixture at my job. I can’t get away from her if I try.
She always chooses a seat near the front and I always choose a seat near the back. We don’t talk on the bus and we don’t talk at school. That hasn’t changed since we started working together.
I throw my bag on the seat and plunk right down. Then I realize that my jacket, which had been in my hand when I left the locker room, is now nowhere in sight. I must have dropped it somewhere.
Awesome.
It’s my only warm jacket and the bus is already on the move. With a sigh I stuff my hands into the front pockets of my hoodie and glare at the diminishing silhouette of Black Mountain Academy. I feel like Oliver fucking Twist.
There are only three other people