Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
“You aren’t always the guy who gets arrested and fucks anything that walks?” I asked as I drained my drink.
He glanced at me, his eyes wide and concerned. As if he’d never explained this to someone else before. “That’s the guy who always went along with everything else. I just let things happen. That was a part of me. And I started to get really careful about who I let see the whole me. Because every time that I did, it backfired. So, I stopped caring. But I cared what you thought of me. I thought you saw past that.”
“Which was why you were so mad at me?”
I stepped back into the kitchen and shook us out more martinis. I needed one for this conversation. I’d never heard Court be so earnest.
“Yes. The truth is… I might have been a playboy. I might have been a train wreck. Christ, I might still be those things. I don’t know. But something changed after the arrest… after Jane.” He reached for the drink I’d offered him and took a large fortifying gulp. “I got a taste of what it was like to be used. I’d been doing this to women for years. And it felt like absolute shit for Jane to do it to me.”
“Reality check.”
“It pulled me up short. I’d thought what I had with Jane was real. I’d thought we were in love. But… it was a lie.”
I winced at his words. They hit so close to home. Too close. Even if the situation with Josh was night and day compared to what had happened with Court and Jane. It felt so real. So familiar.
“I know what you mean,” I muttered.
“I suspect you do.”
“So, where does this leave us?”
“It means you like me,” he said with a cocky grin.
“Oh god. Don’t make me regret it, Court.”
He set the martini glass down and then moved into my personal space. He tilted my chin up until I was looking at him. And I did look. He was mesmerizing. All strong lines and hard edges. Endless depths of blue ocean with that pinprick of black at the center. Long lashes that weren’t even fair on a man. Full, lush lips that were perfectly kissable.
And something more. Recognition. He saw me. And for the first time… he was letting me see him, too. Not the Court Kensington he revealed to the public. The one that I’d read about. But the real person under that Upper East Side facade.
The youth lacrosse coach, the book nerd, the gentleman.
I didn’t know what to make of him. He wasn’t what I’d expected. Not by a long shot. And I’d had no intention of having feelings for him. Hell, for anyone. Josh had fucked me up beyond recognition. I’d already been dark and cynical and jaded, thanks to my bullshit parents. Josh had taken that to the next level.
And yet, when I looked up into those unfathomably blue eyes, I looked into a mirror. We’d both been forced to grow up fast. We’d both had to play our parts to fit in. We’d both been put through the wringer, and somehow, we had found it in ourselves to still feel.
After Josh, I’d never thought I’d feel again.
Court had ruined it all.
Or saved me.
Depending.
“I like you, too, Anna,” he breathed an inch from my lips.
“You do?”
“Yes. I like your ambition and your wit and your insufferable need to always be right.”
“I do not—”
He pressed a finger to my lips. “Like I said.”
I snorted.
“I don’t know where this leaves us,” he admitted, trailing his fingers back into my hair. “But I know I want to try.”
I breathed out at those words and nodded. He fitted his lips to mine, sealing it with a kiss.
Part IV
Reality’s a Bitch
25
English
The sidelines of the first youth lacrosse game of the year were a surprisingly loud event. The parents clearly knew the rules much better than I did. I had no idea what was happening. Court had tried to explain the mechanics of the game to me, but it just made little sense.
So, I watched him in his natural element and tried not to laugh when I overheard some of the moms going on about how hot the coach was. Couldn’t blame them for that assessment. It was half the reason I braved the brisk October temperatures.
The referee blew the final whistle for the game. Court’s team had lost terribly. They’d only had a few weeks of practice, and it was a brand-new team. So, it wasn’t surprising, but it was disappointing.
After slapping hands with the other team, everyone huddled up around him. He swiped the red hat off of his head. He must have given some pep talk that energized them because they went from looking defeated to optimistic. They did a chant and then raced to their bags.