Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 131821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Chuckling to myself, I step down, moving over to my bag in the corner.
I pull my pants off and slip into a pair of track pants, and I no sooner get the shirt pulled over my head than a familiar voice reaches me.
“Hey, stranger.”
Fuck.
I turn to find Allana, a girl I met at one of the football parties when I first got to Avix. “Allana, hey, how are you?”
“Good.” She reaches up, her hands drowning in a baseball hoodie, and tucks her blond hair behind her ear. “I called you a couple of times. You know, after.”
I clear my throat, offering a soft smile. “Yeah, I’m sorry, but I’m…not single anymore.”
Allana nods, opening her mouth, but when my eyes slide away, tracking Payton as she steps back into the room, Allana looks back to me. “Yeah, of course. Well, I just wanted to say hi. See you around.”
I nod, glancing her way briefly. “Yeah, see you around.” I stuff my things in my bag, meeting Payton halfway.
She’s beaming, and the expression makes me laugh.
“Have fun?”
“That was so awesome! They said they love what they’re seeing. I mean, it’s only the sample sheets, and none are edited but—”
“But I’m flawless and don’t need any edits.”
Payton’s lips smack closed, and then she laughs loudly, and when she loops her arm through mine, pride and something else thump behind my ribs. I take her bag and heave it over mine.
“Come on, Superstar.” She drags me along. “Let’s go get Deaton, and you can walk us back to our room.”
“That sounds like the best idea I’ve ever heard.”
She smiles, but of course on our way across campus, Fernando spots us and jogs over.
“Hey, photo girl.”
“Hey.” She smiles.
“Think you could show me some sneak peeks?” He presses closer, and I push her back, glaring harder when he smiles my way.
“Not a chance.” She laughs. “I mean, if I want to get fired, sure…but I don’t.”
“Fine, fine,” he teases, reaching out and flicking her ponytail. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”
“You won’t,” I snap. “Go the fuck away.”
Payton blushes, but my teammate only laughs, winking before sauntering off like the shithead he is.
I heave a sigh, watching him with a glare. “He’s a jackass.”
We start walking again, and Payton laughs, shaking her head.
“He’s not so bad.” My eyes move her way, and she glances over. “If you think college athletes are bad, you have no idea. The egos only float higher at the next level.”
That’s right.
She’s an intern for hire at Embers Elite, the official photographer of the pros. She’s around men all day.
Older men.
Pro fucking players.
Before I know what I’m doing, my hand is pressed to her ribs, and I’ve spun us, backing her up against the wall of the child development building.
Her head presses softly to the old brick, and I’m on her.
Payton gasps, and my eyes slice to her lips, zoning in on the little part between them, and my tongue suddenly feels too heavy. It wants to slide out and slip between her lips. To taste her.
I need to taste her.
“Mase,” she whispers.
“I don’t like when other men look at you, and I hate when you look at them.” I lean down, lowering my forehead to hers. “I’m a man. A stupid, possessive one who wants you all to himself.”
Another gasp, this one deeper, rawer, and my eyes flick open as I realize what I just said.
I pull back, needing to know what her eyes are saying.
They’re wide and wanting, and once again, I’m locking on her pouty, pink lips. “Pretty Little,” I all but beg.
I lean in, and a door slams at our side, making her jump.
Her head whips away, and it feels like a sharp slap across my cheek.
Fuck.
I swallow, running my hand through my hair when she squeezes away from me.
I open the door for us, unable to meet her eyes fully. “Come on, Pretty Little. Let’s go get Little D.”
Unfortunately, Cameron has him all packed up when we get there. He’s already fast asleep in his carrier, a blanket softly laid over the top, so I don’t get to play with him on the short walk to her room, a small studio-like place in the staff quarters reserved for guest speakers and, well, photographers, I guess.
He doesn’t wake when she transfers him to his playpen, already set up in the corner, and with every passing minute, my limbs grow heavier, so I finally face her and say, “I don’t want to leave.”
Payton smiles up at me, her head tipped to the side. “Why would you leave?”
My brows go up. “You want me to stay?”
“You act like you’d listen if I said no.”
My grin grows quickly, and I face her fully. “But are you saying no?”
Her eyes narrow playfully, and she crosses her arms, but I grip her biceps and give her a little shake.