Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 155798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 779(@200wpm)___ 623(@250wpm)___ 519(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 779(@200wpm)___ 623(@250wpm)___ 519(@300wpm)
A slight laugh escaped me, and I relaxed into my seat. I liked riding around with him. “How about when I’m ready to go home, I’ll give you my address?”
He flashed me another grin, which sent my pulse speeding. “One might argue that’s not environmentally friendly.”
“One might argue that we make an exception for tonight.”
“I’m okay with that.”
“I’m okay with that too.”
We were in agreement, and I relaxed even more knowing the boundaries, knowing he would respect them. I felt safe. I didn’t know this man, but some part of me said I already did, and that maybe I was the safest I’d ever been when I was with him.
That meant everything.
He took me into a gated community, one where he said a buddy lived, so he had the code to get in. It was October so the lawns were decorated for the upcoming holiday. Almost every house was decked out.
Ghouls. Ghosts. Goblins.
Grim reapers.
One house had a fake guillotine. I hoped it was fake.
Orange lights. Black lights.
Vampires.
Werewolves.
There were light shows against the side of some of the houses, with bats flying and witches.
It was amazing.
I had fun looking around, and after we were done, Brett drove along the river.
I shook my head. “I’ve lived here a good portion of my life and had no idea about these places.”
“Maybe a benefit of being new. I asked around for local sights to see. These were some of their recommendations.”
“Who did you ask?”
He lifted a shoulder. “The other players. Some of the coaches. Mostly people from the team.”
Right. The team. The Texas Kings. Because he was a professional football player.
“Wait. Don’t you have an early morning walk-through tomorrow?”
“You know my schedule?”
My cheeks warmed. “I watch a lot of football.”
“Right. The stats. You know my stats better than I do.”
“I like it. I’m weird like that. You’ve been invited to play in the Pro Bowl three times, and you’ve had three of your own interceptions. In your whole career, not counting this year, you’ve had four hundred and thirty-two tackles.” My cheeks were now hot. “I could go on.”
“You do know my stats.” He squeezed my hand gently. “And that’s not weird. There are television shows about people talking about our stats.”
“But you probably need to get back, right? You need your sleep.”
We were on the outskirts of the city, which wasn’t far from where I lived, though I’d not told him that yet. He pulled over again. “It’s not too late, but yes, I should get back.”
“We can’t mess up your schedule.”
“Right.” His eyes were amused.
“Because you have a game on Sunday.”
“I do. Yes. Routine is important.”
I nodded. “Thank you for this.”
His head tilted to the side. “This?”
I shrugged. “This. The car ride. Listening to me freaking out and being okay with, well, everything. My idiosyncrasies.”
“Your idiosyncrasies are adorable. They give me a window to you.”
My idiosyncrasies are adorable?
I liked hearing that. “We’re not far from where I live,” I told him, making it sound like a confession as I leaned closer.
“You said a seventy-acre farm, so I guessed.” His head inclined toward me. “I figured if I was going the wrong way, you’d correct me.”
He was right. “No reason to further waste gas.” I scooted over another inch.
“Right. This is as much of an environmentally unfriendly date as we can get.”
“Yes. Right.”
If I moved another inch, and his head bent to stare straight down at me… If I rolled back my shoulder, tipped my head, his lips would be right there. I could brush them with mine.
But he didn’t respond. His eyes were so dark, glittering.
A need rose up through me, intertwined with an ache. I wanted to touch him, kiss him. I wanted to see how he tasted, get swept up in all the dizziness and wonderful sensations.
I hardly dared to breathe, I needed to feel him so badly.
I lifted my hand, his name falling softly from my lips, and he began to inch down to me…
Bang! Bang!
I screamed.
Someone was outside Brett’s window, a flashlight shining in.
Someone was outside my window, another flashlight shining over our faces.
Brett cursed.
Then my phone rang, and I screamed all over again.
Jesus Christ. What was happening?
“It’s the cops.” Brett took my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze before he rolled his window down. “Can I help you?”
I made no move to roll my window down, and the other cop seemed okay with that, his narrowed eyes studying me intently.
My phone kept ringing, so I pulled it out. Lo. “Hello?”
The cop and Brett were conversing, but Travis withstanding, cops made me nervous so I focused on the phone instead.
“Where are you? You’ve been ignoring my texts. Travis said you took off with Brett Broudou? Are you serious? He came back to the table, all heartbroken and—” Roger said something in the background. She responded, her voice sounding far away, before coming back, more clear. “Roger said he wasn’t heartbroken, but his ego was bruised. Oh, come on.” That was to Roger again. “This was his second date with her, and the second time Broudou swooped in. Which, by the way,” she was louder, talking to me. “You left with him. That means we have to meet him. You know that, right? I left you alone, promised Roger I’d let you have your time with him, but it’s almost ten, and no one’s heard from you.” Roger said something again, and whatever it was made Lo huff, annoyed. “Enough’s enough. Where are you? Are you coming home tonight?”