Trick Play Read Online Eden Finley (Fake Boyfriend #2)

Categories Genre: Funny, M-M Romance, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Fake Boyfriend Series by Eden Finley
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Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 96712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
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And there he goes bringing out the wiseass again. Only, this time, I’m this close to taking him up on the offer. “Thank you,” I grumble.

“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it? Bad news is I did promise Damon we’ll still get to know each other. So, you’re stuck with me, but it’ll be in my four-bedroom townhouse where you can have your own bed.”

“I can totally deal with that.”

He continues his way to the bathroom, and I start and finish packing before Noah even finishes his quick shower. I’ve probably put some of his stuff in my bag, but I’m too eager to get outta here and I don’t care. We can sort it back in Manhattan.

When Noah emerges wearing only a towel, I audibly gulp. Before I was immune to his body. Okay, not quite immune, but immune enough. Now? How does one afternoon make him so much more attractive?

“You want the shower?” Noah asks, his toned arm lifting to run a hand over his head.

“Umm—”

“Wait, did you pack all my shit too?”

“I just kinda threw everything in a bag.”

“If you wanted me to walk around naked, you could have just said so.”

Damn his stupid smile and his stupid attitude that’s stupid. That’s a whole lot of stupidness for one person.

Stupidness that I’m starting to find charming.

What the hell?

“I’m going to shower,” I blurt out.

Noah’s brow turns into a frown. “O … kay.”

I tip my head, because let’s just make this more awkward, and charge past him into the bathroom. As soon as the door is shut, I lean against it and breathe deep. All I have to do is make it until we get back to New York, and then we’ll have separate rooms and some space.

I can do that. It’s only like a two-hour flight.

I’ve got this.

I so don’t got this.

“You a nervous flyer?” Noah asks next to me.

I startle. “What?”

“Your leg hasn’t stopped bouncing since we took off.”

“Oh. Umm, right.” Yes, let’s pretend flying is my issue.

He reaches for my hand. “I know this won’t ease your mind, but you’re more likely to die in a car crash.”

“Yeah, but if a car crashes, you have a chance. A plane goes down? It’s all over.”

I’d like this to be all over, because as his thumb makes circles on my hand, I’m pretty sure I’m a few seconds away from jumping into his lap.

“I need to take a leak.” I unclip my seat belt, and my feet push me toward the back of the plane.

“Thanks for the announcement,” he quips.

I’m not going to survive this. I can’t keep running to the bathroom every time I need to get away from him.

Although, this bathroom sobers me a little. The fancy-ass private plane has a fancy-ass bathroom with marble tiling, gold trimming, and a giant shower. I don’t bother to contemplate how a fully-functional bathroom on a plane works with weight distribution and fuel consumption and just wonder how rich this guy is instead.

I splash my face with water and take a moment to compose myself. When I go back out to Noah, I focus on the one thing that will keep me from being tempted.

“The bathroom is bigger than the bedroom I shared with my two brothers growing up,” I say as my ass sinks into the soft leather and I re-buckle my seatbelt. “How rich are you? I mean, I know your family’s well off, but private plane? Manhattan townhouse?”

Noah gives me the side-eye, as if assessing how much to say. Or maybe he’s wondering where I got the balls to ask him about finances. That’s probably not proper etiquette or something. I think. Who the fuck knows.

“My father comes from old money,” Noah says. “Like, really old money.”

I haven’t known Noah long, but there’s something about the way he talks about his family that makes me wonder if he’s ashamed of them or something.

Then his last name clicks …

“You’re one of those Huntingtons? Oil, stocks, real estate, all those other things where you need money to make money?”

“Yup. We’re part of all that. My uncle is the one you see in the news for saying idiot-like things. And my cousins are his idiot-like children who are going to run the world one day. My uncle is the head of the Huntington fortune, but Dad’s still very much involved. Just, on the downlow.”

“Because your dad’s in politics,” I say.

“Exactly. I’m convinced he did it to give their developer buddies tax cuts.” He flinches when he realizes he said something wrong. “Please don’t repeat that.”

“We should fuck,” I blurt out. Okay, even I know that came out of nowhere, and it was from my mouth, but since the interview earlier, I can’t stop thinking about it.

Dang it to hell.

Noah stares blankly at me. “Hello, complete randomness. Not that I don’t appreciate the abrupt subject change—or the words you just said—but, umm, did I somehow project myself into your brain and make you say that?”


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