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)
“Yeah, you’re going to have to tell us about that,” Fiona said just as a beautiful woman with lavender hair came up to us from behind the bar.
“What do you mean?” I asked just as the bartender asked for our drink orders. I ordered a gin and tonic—Maxim was driving tonight and I could definitely use a little help unwinding. The bartender served us quickly, then hurried over to see to the other tables in the bar.
“All that insane tension you have going on between you and Maxim,” Fiona clarified, sipping her own drink.
“Yeah, and he’s your roommate,” Bristol added, as if I didn’t already know that. “There has to be a story there.”
I hid behind my glass, sipping way more than I intended to while trying to decide how I wanted to answer. I adored both these girls and was grateful for their instant friendship when I came into their pack through Mila, but did I want to bare my soul to them?
When I couldn’t keep drinking the gin—unless I wanted to be very drunk very fast—I set it down and shrugged. “I honestly have no idea,” I admitted.
And I really didn’t. It had been two weeks since he blew my mind, taking every fantasy I’d ever had about him and replacing it with a reality so much sweeter than I could’ve ever imagined—and we hadn’t even had sex. Nope, my wildest desires had been ignited from just him doing things to my body I’d never known were possible.
And now?
Now we were back to good luck kisses and unspoken moments between games and travel and work and school. Not that I minded the good luck kisses. I’d grown rather used to them, depended on the little hits of joy now more than ever, but we hadn’t spoken about what had happened on Valentine’s Day, and it was killing me.
The need for more of him was killing me.
The need to tell him the truth just as much.
But I didn’t want to shatter the lucky little game I’d been thrust into. I’d rather be a player forever than burn the game to ash with a few honest declarations of love.
“But there is something going on, right?” Fiona asked.
“If there’s not,” Bristol said. “Then there is some serious unexplored tension happening between you two. Everyone can see it.”
My cheeks flushed and I went ahead and finished off my drink. The bartender quickly brought us another round, and after another sip of gin, I was more than feeling my muscles relax and my mind get a little bubbly.
“There is something,” I admitted. “But I’m not sure if we’re on the same page.” That was truth enough.
“Do you want to be on the same page?” Fiona asked.
I nodded, taking another drink.
Welp, there goes my take-it-slow plan. Oh, who cared? I needed a mental break like nothing else.
“Then just be straightforward,” Bristol said, raising her drink to mine. I clinked it as she continued. “If I’ve learned anything from being with Briggs, it’s you have to be honest. They definitely can’t read our minds. It’s better to be upfront than to wait around wondering.”
“I can second that,” Fiona agreed, clinking her glass with ours as well.
“That’s easier said than done though,” I admitted. “I don’t want to ruin whatever is going on right now.”
And I hated how scared I was of losing what little pieces I did have from Maxim. He meant that damn much to me, and that was dangerous. I’d always known that. I’d loved him for too long in secret for him to even begin to fathom how much power he had over me.
Not that I thought he’d ever abuse that power, of course. This was all on me. He had no clue how much or how long I’d wanted him, and now that he’d given me a taste? God, it was so much worse. Not to mention living with him had only justified and solidified all those reasons for loving him in the first place. I just wish he could see himself through my eyes. He wouldn’t be so damn hard on himself. And maybe I wished he’d see me a little better too. Wished he’d realize I wanted him for so much more than just what he offered physically. But this good luck charm thing was just that…a solution to a problem in his game.
“I know,” Fiona said after we’d gotten another round of drinks. “But it’ll save you time in the long run. Wouldn’t you rather go for it now than wait and wait and eventually realize you could’ve gotten what you wanted ages ago?”
I furrowed my brow, my mind growing a little fuzzy from the gin, but nodding nevertheless. “Maybe,” I said, and the girls laughed.
And then I was laughing too without really knowing why.
“Hockey players,” Bristol said, shaking her head. “They’re infuriatingly sexy, stubbornly charming, and all around annoying with how loveable they are.”