Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 106909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
It was like us, I realized. Ream was confident and sure of what he wanted, insisting. Me … I didn’t want to open myself up to the hurt again. I’d been destroyed when my parents died. A scar that never went away. To lose someone you loved so much … Ream knew what it was like, but for me it was more than just emotional. I felt it physically too. It was all about staying safe. No stress. Lance was safe. Ream was a threat.
I turned away from the window and continued into the sunroom, closing the door and shutting out the image of Ream.
It was several hours later when I heard the shouting and the swearing. I ran out into the living room to see Crisis, Kite, and Ream all sitting on the floor, their legs out, leaning up against the couch. Crisis and Ream had controllers in their hands and the shouting had been at the TV where cars were racing down a track.
“Sweetcakes, sit and watch me beat your boyfriend’s ass,” Crisis said, then groaned as his car went spinning out of control around a corner and Ream’s went flying by.
“I’m seeing Lance now, Crisis.”
“Yeah, whatever.” He waved his hand in the air as if he didn’t believe me.
I let it pass. After all, it was Crisis and he enjoyed stirring shit up. Although, Ream’s face looked pretty damn pleased, most likely from the comment and not that he was now winning.
I went and sat on the arm of the couch. Ream held his controller like he did everything else, with confidence. There was no screwed up face like Crisis, who was currently sticking his tongue out, scrunching his nose, and moving the controller in the direction he was turning. “You know, it’s amusing to watch, but you do realize that moving your body doesn’t have any effect on what’s happening on the screen in this game.”
“He thinks it does. You should see him play the fighting games,” Kite said then chuckled.
I hadn’t noticed it before but Kite’s laugh was hot. The kind that sunk into your bones, a rough, raspy sound … huh. I looked at Kite again, wondering why the hell he didn’t have a girl. He was hot, covered in ink, and was a good guy. Okay, he had some serious piercings, but I imagined that the stud on his tongue might feel pretty damn hot in certain places. When I glanced back up, I saw Ream watching me watching Kite and he was scowling.
“Woot!” Crisis yelled and threw his arms in the air. “Busted. Next time, eyes on the road instead of the babe.”
Ream and I both looked at the screen. His car had spun out on the grass just within sight of the finish line.
I laughed.
He stood.
My lips parted and heart raced, along with the horde of butterflies causing frenzy in my lower body. Then he did that subtle wink again. Ream winking at me was super sexy, and it left me breathless.
I was still uncertain about where we stood and if he was taking the friends idea seriously or if he was going to push for more. He held out his controller to me. “Play Kite, he’ll take it easy on you, Kitkat. The loser plays me. Winner, Crisis.”
I stood and walked over to him. That was my first mistake because being in his space meant I could smell him, and it was good and my body remembered it being good. I grabbed the controller then frowned, holding it out in front of me with two fingers. “You want to grab me a cloth or something? This thing’s all sweaty and gross.”
Ream chuckled and it sent a wave of tingles through me, and it was all good tingles. Yep, his chuckle was hotter than Kite’s. He leaned in and whispered, “I can bring you anything you want, beautiful. And I specifically remember you liking sweaty.”
I sat on the floor. It was quick and ungraceful because my body was hyperaware and sparking off with desire. It was like little fairy hands were partying on my skin and reaching out for Ream, screaming his name.
Crisis hopped over the back of the couch. “We need beers for this race. Might want to take a piss before they start, Ream. You know how Kite plays … old grandpa driving. Kat, you could beat him on a scooter.”
Ream smacked Kite on the shoulder. “Try and keep it on the pavement, buddy.” Then he looked at me. “You any good, Kitkat? Need some tips?”
I shrugged. “I’ve played. I prefer the fantasy games. You know, using your brain to figure shit out. Driving in circles around a track doesn’t really appeal to me.”
“What does appeal to you?” Ream asked, and from his tone I knew he wasn’t talking about games, but I decided with Ream it was better to ignore his innuendos. I was used to Ream being pissed off and getting angry, losing his shit. This … this reminded me of when we met and it was ramping up my uncertainty to a whole new territory.
“Men in tights mostly,” I said. Kite burst out laughing. “You know like the superheroes.”
“Oh, sweetcakes, I’ll be your superhero any day. I can do wonders with my cock …” Crisis stopped mid-sentence, one leg over the couch, the other on the floor, and four beers in hand. He looked at Ream, who didn’t look happy—at all. The kind of mad that made you stop and stare then wonder if maybe you should run. Crisis didn’t of course. “First Emily, now Kat. What the fuck? What chick am I supposed to flirt with now? Christ, Kite, man, we need another chick to move in.”
Ream grabbed two beers from him and opened them, passing one to me. “Thanks.” He nodded then tilted his head back and swallowed the ice cold liquid.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away and was caught staring when he lowered his beer and our gazes collided.
Shit.
“Earth to dollop?” Crisis ruffled my hair.