Seven Years Read Online Free PDF Page B

finger and stood at the door. “Coming?”
    “No. My sister is picking me up tonight and I have a book to finish reading.”
    I furrowed my brow and leaned on one of the display counters by the front window. “Something wrong with your car?”
    April fidgeted with a stretchy bracelet on her arm. “I think it’s the transmission, but I don’t know anything about cars.”
    “Come on; I’ll give you a lift.”
    She averted her eyes. “Nah. I already got a ride.”
    A grin crept up my face. “Actually, I happen to have a viable solution for you. See that beautiful Toyota out there in the parking lot? It can be yours for a reasonably low—”
    “Save it,” she said with an outstretched hand. “I don’t want your cootiemobile.”
    Damn that hurt. “See ya, April.”
    Standing on the curb, I glared at the car. Not one single inquiry. At this point, I’d consider selling it for a dollar just to get rid of the memories. But I needed a way to get to work so that wasn’t an option.
    The lights shut off in the shop and April locked the door, waved, and went into the back room. I was crossing the street toward the parking lot with a slow, reluctant gait when a familiar voice called out from behind.
    “Sexy Lexi?”
    I cringed. I hadn’t been called that name since high school when Michael Hudson deflowered me. After that, he called me Sexy Lexi and all his friends thought I was a slut. Isn’t that always the way it goes?
    “ Please, please, please , don’t let it be him,” I murmured as I turned around.
    “It’s me, Mike Hudson. Remember? We dated in high school.”
    He smirked, lingering by the fire hydrant in a pair of jeans and a blue sports jersey. He still looked the same with curly brown hair and a light dusting of whiskers, but he’d put on a little weight around the gut. Without missing a beat, Michael walked in my direction and I began to get nervous.
    “Still lookin’ good, Sexy Lexi.”
    “Don’t call me that, Michael. I never liked that nickname.”
    “All in fun,” he said defensively, easing up to my right. “So, you work at Sweet Treats?”
    When his eyes slid down my body and up again, I stepped back. “Yeah. Do you work around here?”
    Michael stepped forward. “Nah. I’m in town visiting my parents and decided to take a tour down memory lane—hook up with some of the guys. Want to join us? We’re having pizza and beers over there,” he said, pointing three shops up the road.
    “No, thanks. You guys have fun. I have to go, but it was good seeing you,” I lied, turning on my heel and walking briskly toward the car.
    “Wait a minute,” he protested, jogging up behind me. “It’s been how many years and you’re giving me the cold shoulder? I thought you liked me?”
    I whirled around and pressed my finger against his chest. “You gave me a bad reputation and then after my brother beat your ass, you had your friends jump him when he got off work. Then I was tagged with that sorry fucking nickname that stuck for three years. Three years , Michael.” I glanced down at his wedding band. “Go home to your wife and kids, and just pray some idiot doesn’t ever do that to one of your daughters.”
    I finally had my moment and it felt really damn good as I stormed to the car, ready to do my victory dance. I’d waited a long time to tell him off, and it didn’t require a ten-minute speech. The less time I had to spend with him, the better.
    But then he caught my wrist.
    “You’re still mad over that?”
    I turned around and tugged my arm, but he kept a firm hold. Memories of our relationship flooded back. Something never felt right about our first time, but I assumed that’s how it went with all the girls. The boy pressuring, the girl saying no, the boy insisting, the girl squirming because it hurt, the boy telling her it was always like that the first time and holding her wrists, the girl wincing in pain and crying. “ Next time it won’t hurt as bad ,” he’d said to