Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
At the sound of the bathroom door opening, I put my phone back in my pocket and turned around. She walked toward me with that ghost of a smile I now knew was the best she’d give. I still had yet to be on the receiving end of her blinding smile, but I’d take this one. I’d take all of them. I’d even take her gloomy attitude if it meant I’d have her. I almost laughed at myself. I was alone in a bedroom, inches from a bed, with the hottest girl alive… thinking about her smile. WHO THE FUCK WAS I? Jesus. Maybe my last concussion was worse than I thought.
“Your makeup looks good again,” I said, like a fucking moron. It looked good. She’d just spent fifteen minutes fixing it.
“Thanks. I’m ready when you are.”
“Do you want to hide out here until it’s over?”
She cocked her head slightly. “With or without you?”
“With.”
“Then no,” she said, and my heart dropped just like that. My. Heart. Dropped. What. The. Fuck. I watched her lips move into that tiny smile again. “Just kiddiiiing.”
“That’s not funny.” I stared at her, my heart flipping as it started pounding again.
“Really?” she asked, her face neutral. “Rumor has it you don’t give a shit about anyone or anything except hockey.”
“Rumor, huh?” My lips pulled into a slow smile. “Have you been asking around about me, Lyla James?”
“No.” She scowled, looking offended that I dared to think such a thing, which made me want to laugh. “I was at the grocery store and saw your face in a local magazine. The girls behind me were talking about you.”
“Hm.” I closed the distance between us. “What else did they say?”
“I stopped listening.”
“Why?” I cupped her face, thumb on her cheek, the rest of my fingers fanning over the side and back of her neck.
Her breath hitched, eyes widening slightly as I tilted her face. Fuck. Those eyes would be the death of me. Even vacant, they were beautiful, but she didn’t have her mask up right now and I wanted to kiss her. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, but I was dying to kiss her. I wouldn’t, though. I wasn’t sure what she was sad about, but I assumed it had to do with her mother’s car accident, and I didn’t want her to link the memory of our kiss to that. I searched her eyes, waiting for her response.
“What?” She whispered.
“Why did you stop listening to them?” My lips twitched with the satisfaction that I’d made her lose her thought.
“Because a million different things can be said about you, about anyone. Some may be true, but in my experience, most accounts aren’t. I don’t want to hear anything about you unless it comes from you.”
This fucking girl. When had anyone given me the benefit of the doubt? Never. I’d had to prove myself repeatedly to get to where I was today because people questioned my skills, my mindset, everything. My mind raced with a million questions: did this mean she would no longer push me away? Was it an invitation to kiss her, to ask her out? I mulled that over and realized I’d never actually asked a girl out. If I had it my way, I’d lock us in here and throw away the key. Every version of Lyla James fascinated me, but this was my favorite.
“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” I ran my thumb in soft circles against her cheek.
I looked at her plump lips. They parted slightly. She’d dabbed some kind of colored gloss on them. I didn’t kiss women, but when I did back in high school, lip gloss annoyed the shit out of me. It was sticky and usually had a flavor I hated. I didn’t know what was on hers, but I wanted it on my lips. I wanted to kiss her more than I’d ever wanted to kiss anyone in my entire life. I wouldn’t unless she initiated it, but fuck, I wanted to.
“We should go,” she whispered, holding my gaze.
“We should.”
She took my hand, pulled it from her face, kissed the palm, and walked out the door. It was one of her ninja moves, where she dropped something on me and walked away before I could react. I stared at the door, my mind reeling. It took me a moment to move. I left the guest house and shut the door, but I didn’t try to catch up with her. I let her walk back into the tent by herself. Something told me she needed that. When I walked back in and headed to the table, she was talking to the guy next to her, but her eyes were locked on mine as I approached. I wasn’t sure she was still listening to anything he was saying, which brought another wave of satisfaction.