Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86614 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86614 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“Ugh.” I let him roll off me, pretty sure I was about to get my way.
“Once upon a time, there was this really gorgeous, intelligent, badass motherfucking wide receiver who thought he only liked girls.”
“Pfft,” I cut him off, but he ignored me and continued.
“When he was eighteen, he went to a party with his brother, who was in the NFL. He was looking for this really hot chick he’d seen earlier, when he ran into his brother’s best friend.”
That got my attention. My heart punched against my chest.
“He was annoying as shit. Cocky, loud, picked his nose…”
“Ha-ha.”
“Stop interrupting. Anyway, despite the fact that he stank really bad, said badass motherfucking wide receiver thought, Hm…maybe I should give this guy a chance. With a little work, he could be totally fucking hot…oh shit. I think I’m bi. The end.”
I laughed, an undeniable giddiness bursting in my chest. And fuck, I’d never used that word or felt giddy before, but I did right then. “First, I believe what you mean is, you spotted a guy who’d won the genetic lottery. And second, holy fuck, G. I was your bi-awakening.” I guessed that explained his drunk-night rambling about how hot I was.
“Pretty sure it was the other way around. Who’s been teaching whom the ropes?”
I ignored that. “So basically…you only liked girls, but then the most attractive man you’d ever seen showed you Ty’s trophy room, and you couldn’t help but want to bone him? You were like… Damn, if dudes are this fucking hot, where do I sign up to join the bisexual club? You’re welcome.”
“I hate you.”
“Aw, come on, G, don’t be like that. I’m irresistible. It’s totally understandable.” I laughed, rolled on top of him, felt the vibration of him chuckling too. “I’ll tell you a secret.”
“It better be a good one.”
“I thought you were hot too.” I gave him a loud, smacking, playful kiss, then rolled away. “Now let’s go to bed. Tomorrow is our last day off before it’s back to the grind. I might not let you out of my bed.”
“I might not try,” Garrett replied, then wrapped his arm around me, snuggled close to my back, sighed contentedly, and fell asleep.
When I woke up the next morning, my bed was empty. Garrett rarely got up before me. I was just tugging on some underwear when he came into the room with birthday cupcakes for my mom. That’s when I acknowledged I’d done something incredibly stupid, that this was a little more than just a crush. I was legit falling for Garrett McRae.
Our first practice back was fucking brutal. I’d maybe eaten too many cupcakes the day before and was feeling the sugar overload.
Garrett had stayed at my place last night too. We’d taken separate cars to the practice facility but arrived at the same time. I worried what the locker room would be like after the shit with Nance, but he kept his fucking mouth shut, so all was good.
We’d just finished getting dressed when Tucker asked, “What are you doing today? Want to watch some film for the next game?”
I glanced over at Garrett. We’d gotten to the point where we spent time together daily, so I assumed I’d be with him. It probably wouldn’t kill us not to act like a married couple who were together twenty-four seven, though. As if reading my mind, Garrett shrugged, then turned to Cross. “What are you up to today?”
See, look at us speaking silently to each other and coming to an agreement.
“Yep, sounds good to me,” I told Tucker.
“Bet,” he replied.
We finished getting dressed. Garrett and Cross were done first, and Garrett sent a playful wink in my direction as the two of them walked out. Just as I was about to ask Tuck if he was ready, Coach said, “Ramsey. Get over here. We need to talk.”
My heart dropped to my stomach. It was never good when Coach called for you in that serious, all-work voice.
“I’ll wait.” Tucker sat on the bench.
“Nah, it’s cool. Wanna meet at your house in a bit?”
Tucker agreed and was on his way. Everyone filed out of the locker room while I headed to Coach’s office.
He was sitting at his desk, playbooks and stat sheets spread out all over it.
“Something wrong?” I asked after closing the door.
“What’s going on with you and McRae?”
Jesus, talk about cutting to the chase.
“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” I replied, even though I knew exactly what he fucking meant.
“I’ve noticed the two of you getting close, spending a lot of time together, and I figured that’s a good thing, just you taking him under your wing. But then your reaction to Nance last week—”
“He’s a fucking homophobe.”
“Which is disgusting, but you also nearly choked the guy in my locker room, Ramsey. Since when do you lose your head and let your emotions get the best of you? That’s not you.”