Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 95340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
I rise, busying myself with gathering up my things so the laundry staff can wash my practice jersey and undergarments, then neatly hang my pads in my cubby.
"You know, she seems to think there might be something more between you two." He clicks his tongue.
“How do you know what she thinks?”
Somehow I’m able to school my tone so my voice doesn’t betray me, but the weight of his words settles heavily in the pit of my stomach.
“She texted me.”
Texted him?
“About what?”
Sully shrugs, studying his nails. “For advice.”
“Advice about what?”
“You, idiot.” He puffs out a frustrated breath. “Try to follow along, jeez.”
I’m trying as best I can but the part of my brain that has romantic feelings for her and the other part of my brain that is perpetually annoyed with my roommates are clashing, creating a brain freeze.
“So is there?”
“Why do you need to know?”
“Because she texted me for advice. And I like her—not in a sexual way,” he hastens to add. “I think we’re friends, as fucked up as that is.”
Yeah, it’s fucked up. The idea of Sully being anyone’s friend that has a pair of tits—whom he isn’t fucking—blows my goddamn mind.
“You’re only friends because she friend zoned you.”
“Those are facts.” He laughs. “But what about the two of you?”
The two of us? It’s not my fault that Lizzy thinks there might be something more between us—is it? We’re having a nice time. Not a fun time, a nice time, and I prefer not to have the added pressure of putting a label on it or fast-tracking something we’ve only just begun.
What has it been, a week?
And she’s reaching out to my roommate to find out where my head is at?
Red flag.
Is it a red flag or are you going to try to use this as a reason to break things off so you don’t have to tell her the real reason you’re avoiding real intimacy?
"I don't know, man," I admit, running a hand through my perspiration-drenched hair as I try to gather my thoughts. "I like Lizzy, I really do. But I'm not sure if I'm ready for anything serious right now."
The words settle like a rock in my stomach.
Sully nods in understanding, expression sympathetic, mouth turning down at the corner.
"I get that," he says softly, his tone surprisingly gentle. "But you should know that Lizzy's not the type to play games. If she's opening up to you like this, it means she's serious about wanting to see where things could go."
“Opening up to me? We played a few games while we were camping out in her bedroom. I don’t think that counts. We were both half naked.”
Sully’s eyes go wide when I say the word naked.
“Are we done? I’d like to go soak in the hot tub.” My shoulders are killing me.
His face is impassive. “Yep. We’re good.”
I feel like a jackass.
He’s looking at me like I’m a jackass, so I guess that makes us even.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I grind out, unable to look him in the eye. This is new for me, being the bad guy.
I’m the good guy.
I’M ALWAYS THE FUCKING GOOD GUY.
“How am I looking at you?” Sully removes his leg from the bench and reties the towel around his waist.
“Like—like I’m being a dick.”
“I never said you were being a dick. I haven’t said anything.”
“Yeah, exactly.”
He laughs. “This is new for you, isn’t?”
My idiot roommate trails me as I walk to the area in the locker room where they have the hot tubs and cold plunge pools.
“Is what new for me?”
“Having feelings about a girl and not knowing how to deal with it.” I can hear his bare feet on the tile. “The mighty Brodie, having to fend off a woman who’s more interested in him than he’s interested in her.”
I whip around. “I’m not fending her off.” The fucking audacity of this fucking guy. “How about you keep your opinions to yourself.”
“How about you have a talk with her about how you feel so she doesn’t keep spinning her wheels.”
Spinning her wheels? “How is she spinning her wheels?”
He shrugs, leaning against the silver handrail that leads down into the hot tub. “She said you fooled around.” He holds his hands up. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m sure she felt it was pertinent information.”
“So what if we’re fooling around?”
“’Cause, bro—she wants to make sure that’s not all it’s ever going to be.” He cocks his head, moving out of my way when I slowly step down into the hot tub. “Have you never heard the phrase ‘catching feels’? Total chick thing. She doesn’t want to catch feelings or whatever. Then you have real problems.”
I grunt, cringing at the heat. “You’re the only real problem.”
Sully steps to the edge of the tub.
“Don’t you fucking dare come in here,” I tell him.