Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
At least, I did.
“Well, I visualize,” she said. “I try really hard, and I want it really bad, and that usually makes it happen for me.” Her expression shifted to a bashful one. “But it doesn’t work for everything. Like, serious sports? Forget it. I’m terrible. If we were playing regular golf right now, you’d have no problem beating me. But the games anyone can play—those are the ones where I kick ass.”
Well, she wasn’t kicking my ass just yet. I was only a few strokes behind, but if this continued? I was going to lose. I needed something to throw her off her game.
Sydney stood off to the side of the fairway, watching me as I dropped my lime green ball onto the artificial turf and took my shot. Except I misjudged the amount of force to use, meaning my ball carried too much speed over the hill and gained even more as it rolled down. It blew right past the hole, ricocheting off the stone outline at the back of the fairway, and miraculously rolled back toward the pin.
“Lucky,” she commented when my ball dropped into the hole.
“No, I’m just that good.”
Like I’d planned it that way, even though it was total bullshit. I bent and retrieved my ball, then set my gaze on her. “Hey, question for you. How the hell are you still a virgin?”
She jolted and glanced around to see if anyone had overheard me, but no one had. I’d been careful. I didn’t want to embarrass her, or for her to think she should feel shame about this. All I hoped to do was fluster her. To give myself a tiny chance at not losing.
Plus, this question had been eating at me ever since she’d confessed it. I couldn’t figure out how it was possible. Her parents weren’t that religious, and she didn’t seem to be either, so surely that wasn’t the reason. But her folks had a weird hold over her. It was possible they’d locked her up in some sort of metaphorical chastity belt.
“What?” she whispered.
“You’re gorgeous,” I said, stating a simple fact. “Plus, you suck cock like a champ.” Her eyes widened and she froze, but I kept going. “Are you waiting for marriage?”
She blinked her stunned eyes, looking off-kilter. “No.”
I knew it was none of my business, but I couldn’t stop myself. “Then, why?”
She held her putter with both hands, and they tightened on the grip. It took her a lifetime to find the words. “Maybe I haven’t found the right guy yet.”
I pushed out a breath, recalling what she’d said in the car—how she’d always imagined I’d be the one to take her virginity. And maybe that was true, but that didn’t explain the past twelve months. I’d pushed her away after our fucking incredible kiss last year, instead of hooking up with her.
Only a fool would continue to wait for me after that.
I hadn’t waited for her.
No, you just thought about her all the damn time.
I shot her a look and tilted my head. “You need to get better at lying if you’re going to be bad.”
Alarm spiked in her expression. Busted.
I got that she was shy, but she didn’t seem to be painfully so. At least, no more than some of the other girls I’d been with, so that probably wasn’t the reason either. It had to be something else.
It only took two steps to bring me right in front of her and my voice went quiet. “Are you, like, not interested in sex?”
A strangled noise escaped from her throat, and she matched my low tone. “No, I’m very interested in . . . that.”
Her focus slid down my body, and fuck. My pulse climbed.
When the pools of her eyes heated, it was clear she was thinking the same thing I was at that moment. She pictured us naked, her legs wrapped around my waist as I pushed my dick inside her for the first time. Maybe she’d make that same noise of surprise I’d just heard from her.
But she blinked away the desire and her guard came up, creating a wall between us. I didn’t like it, and that overrode the voice in my head telling me not to push her. “Tell me.”
My tone wasn’t demanding, but it didn’t matter. The second it was out, I winced, knowing I’d made a mistake.
Her single word was cold and definitive. “No.”
I was irritated with myself. She’d tell me if and when she wanted to, and I needed to get that. I shouldn’t care what her reasons were—only that she’d come to me for help when she could have gone to anyone else. Plus, my insistence might be making her feel like I thought there was something wrong with her, when . . . shit, no. That wasn’t what I thought at all.