Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“Okay, I’m just going to pretend Maxim isn’t my brother. Let’s rename him for my mental health’s sake, okay? Because I need the details.” She pursed her lips. “Let’s just call him X, cool? Cool.”
I laughed, but nodded. “Okay, I made out with X.”
Mila clapped. “About damn time—”
“Don’t get too excited,” I hurried to say. “It didn’t mean anything.”
Her shoulders instantly dropped, a crease forming between her brows. “Explain.”
I shrugged. “The first time—”
“You made out with X more than once?”
“Yes. Kind of.”
She waved me on.
“The first time we’d both had a couple shots.”
“Oh, naughty! I love it!”
I laughed, but kept going. “He’d had a bad game, and I needed help with my motion of the body project. One thing led to another…” I drifted off as the memory replayed in my mind, coiling up my insides with so much need I sighed.
“So it was good?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Like beyond. And it was just a kiss.”
Mila squealed again. “Okay, then what?”
“He stopped it before it could go any further.”
She tilted her head. “Why?”
I shrugged. “We’d both been drinking and I think he realized it was a mistake.”
She rolled her eyes. “There’s no way it was a mistake, but continue.”
“Well, then just a few hours ago before he went to the game, he kissed me again.”
“See! Not a mistake!”
“Oh, no it was with deliberate intention,” I said. “See, X has the yips,” I explained, and Mila cringed.
“He does? Why didn’t the shithead tell me?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “He’s been acting like this season is harder than the others for some reason. But, anyway, he thinks he found the cure for it.”
Mila’s eyes widened, putting together the pieces much faster than I did. “Kissing you. He thinks you’re the cure.”
“Bingo,” I said.
“Well, screw that, Evie. If you don’t agree with it then tell him to fuck right off—”
“I agreed,” I hurried to say, and she gave me a devious grin.
“You did?”
“Well, I didn’t exactly know what he was asking, but you know I’m always down to help your bro…X.” She contemplated this for a second, too many dangerous plots playing across her face. “Don’t get any ideas,” I said. “It doesn’t mean anything—”
“It so does.”
“It can’t—”
“It can!” she said. “Evie, I’m telling you, X wouldn’t do that with you just for that reason. He’s known you for too long. He wouldn’t jeopardize—”
“Please, Mila,” I cut her off. “Please don’t put thoughts in my head.”
She gave me an apologetic smile. “You could just tell him how you feel.”
“I know,” I said. “But I’ve kept this secret all these years for a reason.” Even if everyone else could see how hopelessly in love I was with Maxim, Maxim couldn’t, and that saved everyone—namely me—a lot of awkward grief. “He’d never go for a girl like me,” I said, then rushed on before she could argue with me. “His life is in the limelight, a place I hate to be. I’m more comfortable behind the camera than in front of it. And let's face it, the girls he’s chosen in the past have been super camera ready.” What he’d said to me earlier today flashed through my mind, but I ignored it. “Besides, he can’t see past me being your best friend.”
“Obviously he can if he’s already kissed you twice.”
“Just for luck. For the game. No other reason.”
“Evie, my love, I’m telling you that if he didn’t enjoy doing it, he wouldn’t do it.”
Hope flickered in my chest with her words, but I tried to lock that shit down as quickly as possible.
“What are you going to do about it?” she asked after I’d been quiet a little too long. “There are a shit ton of games left. If he really believes you’re the cure, he’ll likely keep asking.”
“You know I’ll always be whatever Ma—X needs me to be,” I admitted.
“But you shouldn’t have to be if you’re uncomfortable.”
I bit my lip, my cheeks flaring again. “I promise you, I’m not uncomfortable.” That was the least of my worries. I wanted more. I wanted him on every level a person could want another person.
“Remind me again why you love him that much?”
I sighed, smiling. “He’s more kind than anyone ever gives him credit for.” He never once hesitated to help me when I’d needed it over the past, whether that be from guys giving me shit over always reading or hiding behind a camera or if I needed help stacking books on a shelf. “He’s got this quick wit that always keeps you on your toes,” I continued. “And he’s constantly guarded, but in those rare times he lets his walls down, and lets you see on the other side of them, there is this amazing man who just needs to be heard. Not seen underneath the flashing lights of his celebrity status, but heard. Listened to according to what he says, what he needs, what he wants. Not the press or his father or even his team. Just him.”