UNDER CONSTRUCTION . CHAPTERS MAY UPDATE AS YOU READ . AFTER COMPLETION THE BOOK WILL BE MARKED COMPLETE & THIS MESSAGE WILL DISAPPEAR . - Binkya
Aaronzé, rising player, had everything any teenage boy could dream of; Money, good grades, and women...
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33. helping hand
After that embarrassing *ss head session—because that was my first time doing that—Aaronzé turned up the music.
It was loud, and he had headphones in his ears as well.
For what reason? I don't know.
My high ass was overthinking everything in that moment. Did I do okay? Did he like it?
Based on the way he reacted to me I would think so, but you never know with guys. Especially him.
I sat back in the seat and held my hand in front of my face. Maybe he did like it.
My nails need to be redone.
What did Aaronzé mean by "then we both know it wasn't a bear?" The question floated around in my head ever so subtlety. That same question was followed by another question.
Why did he lie about it on TV?
I looked over at him; he sat there looking out of the side window, music blasting in his ear. He seemed out of it.
Why is he so weird?
I'd be lying if I said he wasn't confusing. The suddenly hood version of him, suddenly intelligent and speaking as if he's from another century version of him, and the dark, violent, mysterious side of him.
The side I rarely see.
What is he hiding from me?
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