Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 120176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
They were super cute, holding hands. She blushed a lot.
Miles was the one most flabbergasted by her, or the image of Wade with her. He kept staring at them the whole weekend until Wade finally said something. The two had a private conversation, and Miles was all forced smiles when they came back.
Angela looked ready to die from mortification, but Taz decided to take her under her wing. Big shock there.
Now it was Sunday.
Cruz was supposed to come over to study. They won their Saturday game, but it’d been just as close as the first one. Everyone had watched at the house, though so many were distracted, but I noticed that Cruz played harder than he had the first night. When they won, words were exchanged between a couple of the opposing teams’ guys and Cruz. They went at him first, and his teammates backed him up. No fists were thrown, just words. The refs got involved right away, but it looked intense. I wanted to ask him about it, but I was also a mess at just him coming over.
I was nervous and confused, and I had no idea what was going to happen today.
Knock, knock.
It was soft, but I recognized Cruz. Maybe it was the air. It settled over me before I went, opened the door.
He was there, a slight crooked grin on his face, his backpack over one shoulder. Jeans and a Grant West hockey T-shirt. His ballcap was pulled low over his face, and damn, I was always such a sucker for that look on him. His prominent jawline so square and rough-shaven.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
I stepped back, feeling the room shrink in size as he came in behind me, his hand grazing mine as he went to set his bag on the couch.
My stomach fluttered.
He was glancing around, a restlessness to him, as he stretched.
I frowned. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” He barely skimmed a look at me before going to the bathroom. “One sec.”
My frown just deepened.
Cruz was being weird. I’d never gotten this vibe from him. Like he was distracted, and on edge. I didn’t know what that was about, but hearing the toilet flush, my sink run, he came out a beat later. Still, barely a look at me.
He gestured to the kitchen area. “Mind if I make a drink?”
I held my hand out, giving him the go-ahead. “Help yourself.” But he was already going for it, opening the fridge, grabbing one of my juices, putting it on the counter. He took a glass, poured himself a healthy dose of pineapple juice, then filled the rest with my vodka.
My eyes almost popped out. It was nearly half and half.
“Cruz.” I took the vodka from him, and put the cap on it. “What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing.” He took his glass, going back to the living room and sinking down. “Let’s study.”
Oh no, no, no.
I went over, took his glass, and put it on the stand by the couch. Then I pushed him back. A part of me wanted to sink down, straddle him. The old me would’ve, but this was a new me. The real me, or the one I was trying to let out. And because I didn’t want to go back to my old ways, I forced myself to perch on the side of the couch.
“Does this have to do with your game yesterday?”
“What?” Understanding dawned. “No. That’s just hockey.”
“Then what’s going on?”
He raked a hand through his hair. “Nothing.” Hunching forward, his arms moved ahead, his shirt tightening over his broad shoulders and back.
“Hey.” I poked him in his biceps, his very sculpted biceps. “It’s me here. I got that phone call from you on Friday. Remember? Remember who I am? You’re the one person who’s seen my dark shit. Share. What’s going on with you?”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Mara. Let’s study.” Then a different look came over him, sensual and dark, and I could feel the air in the room shift. It was more sizzling, electrifying as he focused on me. He leaned back, raking his eyes over all of me, and going slow. Purposeful. My clit was contracting from the perusal, and I shifted, but he clocked my reaction, saw how I started to move my legs. A measured grin spread over his face. He leaned over, his hand going to my knee.
I jumped from the touch, even though it was just my knee, but my knee was close to my vagina and he knew he only had to move his hand north a little, following the path. He’d know I was already wet.
His thumb rubbed over my knee, holding still for the moment.
Tingles spread behind his caress.
“Unless you want to spend the day doing something else?” He knew how his touch was affecting me. “You still on the no sex thing with us? Holding firm?”