Football Royalty – Franklin U Read Online Eden Finley

Categories Genre: College, M-M Romance, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
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It makes a startling gurgling noise as it turns on, and I’m assuming that’s the grinder grinding the beans. When it’s done making the noise, I hit the button for two cups again.

I am not prepared for the spray of water that comes out the side of the handle and lands all over the counter and the floor. None of it goes in the cups.

That can’t be right.

Then the whole handle falls out of place, more water goes everywhere, and coffee beans explode all over the ground, ping-ponging off every surface on the way down, including one that hits me in the damn nipple.

“What the fuck?” I rub my chest while I frantically try to stop the machine from continuing to spew water everywhere, but I don’t know what button to push.

I give up and unplug the whole thing.

When a slow clap starts behind me, I cringe.

I slowly turn, wincing at Levi’s smirk. He’s fully dressed now, and I’m standing in the middle of his apartment, drenched and practically naked.

Even if I don’t feel it, I can pull the confident act out when I need it. “My dads always taught me that taking initiative is a good thing. And that even if I get it wrong, it’s the thought that counts.” Totally did all of this on purpose.

Levi rubs his chin. “Well, it depends on what your thought was. Was it to make a mess of my kitchen?”

“It was to make us both coffee.”

“In that case, I suppose I can forgive you. I’ll clean up and make the coffee. You … can go find a pair of my underwear to change into.” He gestures to the front of my boxer briefs, which are all wet.

“Ooh, is this like a frat thing? Whenever you hook up with someone, you give them a pair of your underwear? I’ve heard of T-shirts.”

“Maybe you need to stop making it a habit of ruining yours.”

“That sounds less fun, though.”

Levi lifts his hands, gesturing to the mess. “Which part of this is fun?”

“The part where you clean it up for me?” I give an over-the-top smile.

“Go get dressed.”

“You’re the best.” On my way past, I drop a kiss on Levi’s cheek, which seems to shock the hell out of him, so I give him a peck on the mouth too before moving toward his bedroom.

I find a pair of his boxer briefs in his top drawer, but now we’re not in high school and I’m at my most physically fit, they’re really tight on me. On the plus side, they make my cock look huge like I’m trying to smuggle an anaconda down there.

I’m tempted to go back into the kitchen like this to tempt Levi into another round before I should get back home.

Brady’s probably already thinking about all the ways he could torment me about Levi, so I refrain from torturing both of us and put the rest of my clothes back on to go back out there.

The coffee machine whirs, and Levi moves about his kitchen effortlessly. I’m too busy watching him to notice when I get caught on a sheet in his kill corner.

It moves with my foot and falls to the ground, revealing a clay sculpture on a table.

“I told you it was your kill corner,” I shriek when I take in the headless body. It’s just a torso and arms. No legs or anything juicy below the hard V thing Brady’s always saying is sexy on a guy. I don’t understand the appeal of the V, but I do like how the abs are defined, the nipples hard, the shoulders are wide, and there’s a prominent vein running down the right arm. “Hey, is this me? Wow, you like my body so much, you’ve molded it into clay so you have something to hug at night.”

Levi appears with the two mugs of coffee and hands me one. “It’s for class, Mr. Conceited. I know the Peyton Miller probably doesn’t hear this much, but not everything is about you.”

“Lies.” I go to take a sip of my coffee when the pattern in the milk stops me. “Wow, you can draw like flowers and stuff in your coffee?” I take a sip but then splutter at the horrible bitter taste. “That’s—”

Levi cocks an eyebrow at me.

“—uh, really good?” I take another sip and wince. “Really smooth.”

“Sorry. I forgot you need your coffee sweeter than baby unicorn burps.” He walks over to his kitchen counter again and brings back a sugar canister with a pour top. “Tell me when.” He tips it, but it comes out slowly, and as it continues to pour, Levi’s face contorts. “I really hope you never get diabetes in your life.”

“Okay, I’m good. I think.”

He hands me a spoon, and after stirring, I take a sip.

“Damn, now that’s good coffee. How did you learn to do that?”


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