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Back Break Us Save as PDF
Chapters (43)
  1. DEDICATION
  2. PROLOGUE
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. EPILOGUE
  38. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  39. BACK AD
  40. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  41. BOOKS BY JENNIFER BROWN
  42. CREDITS
  43. ABOUT THE PUBLISHER

I popped open the trunk and rummaged around in the junk until I found an old hoodie. I slipped it over my shirt, and when I got in the front seat, I promptly pulled it so far over my head it was obscuring my eyes. If there was more to the Mystery Girlfriend conversation, I didn’t want to be part of it.

CHRIS SHOOK ME awake when we got to the hotel. I was completely out and for a minute, I was totally confused. Where was I and why was I here with Chris? But then I recognized the building we were in front of, and it all came back to me.

“The Luxor?” I asked, groggy, as I looked up at the pyramid I’d seen a million times on TV but never in person. “I can’t afford this place.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Chris mumbled, unbuckling his seat belt. “I’ve got it taken care of.”

I pulled myself to sitting. I was sweaty inside my hoodie. I battled with it to get it off. “I’m not going to let you pay for my hotel. Just take me to a cheap motel off the strip or something.”

“It’s one night,” he said. “And I’m not staying in a cheap hotel off the strip. And you’re not staying in a hotel I’m not staying in.” I started to say more, but he gave me a look. “I got two rooms, okay?”

I didn’t know how to argue with that. Plus, there was the tiniest bit of me that was excited about getting to stay in a really nice hotel in Vegas. This was the kind of place Peyton would have stayed in. It was the kind of place Dru was known to stay in. Somehow I felt closer to them, even if I had no idea if they’d ever actually walked the halls of the Luxor.

We checked in and went to our rooms, our footsteps soft on the carpet. I felt self-conscious about my backpack, the hole in the knee of my jeans, my ratty sleep-hair.

Chris stuck his key card in his door and opened it. “Dinner? Seven o’clock?”

“Sure,” I said. I opened the door and breathed in the money of my room.

17

I HADN’T REALIZED we were going to be staying in such style, so I hadn’t brought anything particularly nice to wear. Chris called me and told me to do some shopping. Just take my credit card, he said, so I did.

I hated shopping.