The Good Girl (Nashville Neighborhood #5) Read Online Nikki Sloane

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Forbidden, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Nashville Neighborhood Series by Nikki Sloane
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Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
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Fuck. The crush I’d had on him in high school was nothing compared to the way I felt about him now.

Hair at my nape prickled, and a strange sensation washed down my back. There was an alert going off in my brain, trying to tell me something, and when I widened my gaze to include things outside of just Preston, I realized what it was.

There were some guys sitting at the bar who were perfectly in my line of sight, and one of them was looking at me while wearing a friendly smile.

Did . . . I know him?

He didn’t look familiar, but his smile was warm, so I shot him a brief, polite smile back. Maybe he’d mistakenly thought I was looking at him when my focus had been on Preston, who was behind him. The line cleared up, so I ducked inside the tiny bathroom and didn’t think anything of it until I finished.

When I came out, it looked as if the guy had been watching and waiting for me. He raised a hand and flagged me over, and it was so sure and confident, I began to second-guess myself.

Had we met before? It’d be rude to ignore him, so I strode toward the bar.

“Rachel?” he asked me.

Oh. There’d been a tension in my shoulders, and it relaxed. He thought I was someone else. “No, sorry.”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, well. You look like a Rachel to me.” He gestured to himself. “What do you think my name is?”

Um, what?

When I didn’t answer right away, he laughed. “I’ll give you a hint. It’s Tony.”

I blinked, utterly confused. “Uh, okay.”

His gaze sharpened like he was examining me for clues to my identity. “Sarah? No, wait. Kristin?” He tossed up a hand like he was giving up. “Give me a hint.”

“It’s Felicity,” I said dryly.

“No shit, really?” His expression was dubious. “You don’t look like a Felicity to me.”

His comment was light and playful, but it made me uneasy because he’d hit a little too close to the mark. “Don’t know what to say to that, Tony.”

As I stood beside the bar, I studied him the same way he’d done to me. He looked like he was in his late twenties, and was cute enough, but there was a hint of pushiness that set my teeth on edge. I got the same vibe from him that I had gotten from Mason at that house party my freshman year, the one I’d foolishly ignored.

“What are you drinking?” he asked.

Because I was out of my element, my brain was slow and didn’t understand why he was asking. “It was a spiked lemonade.”

“You want another?” He turned and attempted to flag down the bartender.

“Wait—” I started.

A hand was abruptly on the small of my back and a shadow fell over me, drawing my attention up. Preston’s gaze wasn’t on me, it was fixed on Tony, and his smile was tight.

“Thanks, man,” his tone straddled the line between being friendly and firm, “but if my girlfriend wants another drink, I’ll get it for her.”

TWENTY-TWO

Preston

Calling Sydney my girlfriend hadn’t gone unnoticed by her. Since I was touching her, I felt the surprise rocket through her body, she didn’t say a damn thing to correct me.

The guy who’d been hitting on her took one look at me, and disappointment flashed through his expression. “Oh, sorry.” He peered at Sydney and barely hid his annoyance. Like he felt she’d somehow led him on. “I thought you were here on your own.”

“She’s not.” I forced casualness into my voice, because while I didn’t like it, I couldn’t fault him for trying. He’d recognized how hot she was. But she was mine. “Come on, Sydney. It’s your turn.”

The guy was offended. “You said your name was Felicity.”

It took everything in me not to smile, but it was easier when I saw the worry in her eyes at being caught in the lie.

“It is,” I told him quickly. “Sydney’s just my nickname for her.”

I used my hand to guide her away from the bar and back to the stall with our drinks and the game we were playing.

The one where I was losing again.

It was hot inside the bar, and I could feel the thin sheen of sweat on my face. Throwing the axes hadn’t helped, and neither did the two pints of beer I’d had, but when I’d seen Sydney get flagged over by the guy, I’d started to sweat for real.

My first thought was he knew her, but her body language quickly told me otherwise. She’d looked uncomfortable, and without a second thought, I’d come running. Part of me knew she didn’t need my help shutting him down. She’d done two years of college, so of course she’d been hit on before. And while she was shy at times, she wasn’t weak. Sydney didn’t need me to rescue her.


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