Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
And because the football coach was such a stickler, no one was allowed near the stadium outside game hours. That included parents and faculty. It was the only reason I did it. Otherwise, I would have passed up on the offer. I couldn’t risk him lurking around here. I shivered at the thought of that psychopath watching me as I walked over to where Lach was standing at the end of the hall. He was near the locker rooms. I didn’t even want to ask how he gained access to this area. As sneaky as he was, he probably had someone hack into the system to add him to the football roster for this. I wouldn’t put anything past him. I smiled wide when I finally reached him and lifted me in a tight hug. I was sweaty and cross and still had the helmet in my hand, but he didn’t care. And right now, in his arms, I didn’t either.
“You fucking killed it,” he said, grinning with pride. I thought my heart might explode.
“Good work out there, Marichal,” one of the guys said behind me.
“Thank you, Jacobs.” I turned to face him. “You did good work out there running in that last touchdown.”
“You did, man. That last one was insane,” Lach said.
“Thanks, bro. I appreciate that.” He put out his fist for us to bump and started walking away backward. “See you tonight, Marichal?”
“You just might,” I said with a shrug as he walked away.
“What’s tonight?” Lach grabbed me by the shoulder pads and crouched a little to meet my eyes. “Is he talking about Pres’ party?”
“Yup.”
“We’re going?” he asked, frowning slightly. I loved how he said we about everything.
“You’re going,” I said. “I might pass by.”
“Seriously, Lyla?” He shot me a look. “If you pass by, I pass by.”
“Fine. We’re going, but we’re arriving at separate times,” I said.
“How much time are we talking?” he asked as we started walking down the hall.
“I don’t know, twenty minutes?” I stopped at the door of the bathroom and unlocked it.
I obviously didn’t shower and change with the guys; I used the bathroom down the hall. All of my things were already in there waiting. I was going home and straight into the shower, but I needed to give back the pads since I wouldn’t be using them anymore. Lachlan stopped in front of me.
“Fine.”
“You know how it is. Marissa is going to want to pick out my clothes and go with me,” I said.
“What are you wearing?” he asked, his mouth pulling into that sexy smile of his.
“I have no clue.” I shrugged. “I just go with whatever she throws at me.”
“She picked the outfit you wore to the last party?”
“Yep.”
His eyes darkened, and he hooked his finger through the front of my jersey, leaning down so we were at eye level again. “I’m getting hard just thinking about it.”
I leaned in and licked his lips. He groaned and kissed me. When we broke apart, he nodded at the bathroom door.
“We can go in there.”
“Hell no. I’m disgusting right now. I barely want you to kiss me, let alone fuck me.” My face pulled in disgust. “I hate sweat, which is hilarious since I spent most of my life running on fields, sweating.”
“You’re so fucking weird.” He chuckled and gave me another kiss, letting go of the jersey.
“I’ll see you tonight.” I kissed him one last time. He tried to deepen it, but I pulled away from him. “Tonight, Lachlan.”
“Fine,” he groaned and stepped away. “Tonight.”
Sometimes, wings are built from despair. That was something my grandmother used to say, and it was the thought at the forefront of my mind as I stared at my car and fought the cold chill slithering down my spine. At first glance, it looked like a random act of vandalism, but I knew the truth. Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward, glass crunching under my shoes as I circled to the driver's side. I opened the door and used the t-shirt to wipe the driver's seat before sitting down. As soon as I shut the car door, the smell of cigarettes filled my nostrils and I gagged. It was a visceral reaction. I tried to push through it by squeezing my eyes shut and tightening the grip on the duffel bag in my lap.
My breath caught in my throat when I turned to set my bag on the passenger seat and saw a piece of glass very deliberately placed on the left side. My hands shook as I switched on the engine. There was another cigarette butt on the dash. I left it there as I drove away, careful to show no reaction. I knew he was watching. I didn't know where he was, but I knew he was watching. He got off on shit like this, but he didn't deserve access to my emotions, and I wouldn't grant it. We both knew his message was clear.