Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“Why do you get the easy job?” She gives me a fake pout and starts to stack her books into a neat pile.
I’m a little obsessed. I know this, and Evan was right, I’ve never been like this, especially not about a girl, but there’s something about her, something that is unlike anyone I’ve ever met before. She doesn’t get caught up in my football image. She doesn’t care about money or fame or my friends. She’s with me because she wants to be, not because of what I can offer her.
After I finish ordering Blair her favorite, a veggies lover, and a sausage and mushroom pizza for myself, I meet her over at the sectional.
Like a boss, she is scrolling through the Netflix recommendations.
Slinging an arm over her shoulder, I pull her into my side, needing her closer.
Turning, she looks up at me. “I never thought I would be dating the guy I poured a beer on.”
“Same, except I never thought I would be dating the chick who legit hated my guts.”
“I didn’t hate your guts. I was just…” she looks away, and I want to kick myself in the face. “I’m insecure and wrapped up with worry that someday I’ll become my mom. That’s not your fault.”
“Stop, you don’t have to explain yourself.” And really, she doesn’t. “You’ve told me why you are the way you are, and I understand. I’m not going to hurt you, and neither is anyone else.” I press a kiss to the tip of her nose and hope that my words are reassuring enough.
We haven’t talked about the fact that I’m basically living someone else’s dream since I confessed the truth. Blair knows the real me, sees through the mask I wear daily. Part of me wonders if she would ever push me to do what I want, to quit football.
Helping to push her out of her comfort zone was the best decision I ever made. I could never be as courageous as her though. I’m a fraud, forced to live a lie. Football is all I have, and my father would murder me if I even showed an ounce of interest in something else.
And while I don’t let the prick dictate my life, I do value living.
Nodding her head, everything falls back into place, and I shove my thoughts away, focusing on the present instead of an unattainable dream.
Together we choose something to watch and are just getting into the first episode when the doorbell rings.
“Pizza!” I exclaim and disconnect from Blair.
She rolls her eyes as I rush toward the door, pulling out my wallet in the process. Opening the door, I find the pizza delivery guy standing there with our two pizzas. He doesn’t smile and almost seems annoyed as we exchange money and pizzas.
“Thanks,” I tell him and slam the door closed.
Walking into the kitchen, I set the two pizzas down and get out the plates. Blair gets up and walks into the kitchen, her feet barely make any noise against the tile. When I look up from dishing out the pizza, I find her standing close by looking down at her phone.
She frowns before slipping the device back into her pocket.
“What’s up?” I ask before shoving a piece of greasy goodness into my mouth.
Blair chews on her bottom lip in contemplation. “Nothing. Just my brother. He wants to come and visit. Apparently, my mom got back with an ex, and there is tension.”
She’s shared so much with me, and I know if I want this to work out, for us to grow closer, I’ll have to tell her about my mom, but I’m just not ready yet.
“He can come hang out with us for a weekend if you want?” I offer, and that makes her smile. Holy hell, I love when she smiles at me.
“You would be okay with that? Him coming here and hanging out with us?”
I nod. “Of course, it would give me a chance to get to know him and to introduce myself as your boyfriend.”
“I should’ve known it had nothing to do with being sweet and everything to do with giving your ego a boost.” She playfully slaps me, and I shove another piece of pizza past my lips before walking to the fridge for a bottle of water.
“You know how it is, sweetheart. You’re either stroking my ego, or my…”
“Do not finish that sentence or so help me god.” Blair narrows her eyes, but I can see the flicks of mischief in her eyes.
“Heart.” I shake my head. “I don’t know what you were thinking.”
“You’re the worst.” She snickers.
“Maybe, but you definitely don’t think that when I’m between your legs.”
“Oh, god. Seriously, shut up.” Her cheeks turn crimson, and she walks back to the couch with her plate.
“That’s exactly what you say, oh god… yes… more please…”