Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 89536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
“Guard it from you?!”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t leave it alone. It’s like kid crack, and I was wild for it. She thought it was rude of me to down an entire bowl by myself when there were other people in the house.”
True laughs. “I mean, she’s not wrong. But neither are you—chips and dip are life.”
“Ugh, we have so much in common,” I tease flirtatiously. She’s so damn cute—I want to make out with her.
I bet she’s hella snuggly.
Of course, I don’t say this to her; she’d probably be insulted and want to kick my ass. But True Wallace wrapped in a blanket and cuddling? Yes please. How warm would that be?!
“When’s the last time you dated?” I ask, getting a bit more personal.
She tips her head in thought. “Mmm, I don’t know. A few months ago I went on a date with the coach for one of the college teams I recruit for.”
“How did that go?” My posture is casual but my breath stalls, waiting for her reply.
“It was fine.”
Fine?
Yikes.
“Does he know it was just fine?”
“Yes.” Another laugh. “I told him I wasn’t feeling it.”
“You said that?!”
“I did. He texted me from his car on the way home and asked, ‘Well what did you think?’ and I said, ‘I wasn’t feeling a romantic connection, but it was great catching up with you.’ He said ‘K’ and that was the end of it.”
“K?”
“Yes.” She laughs again. “Which we all know is a big old fuck you.”
Hearing those dirty words coming out of her mouth…
Muy caliente. So hot.
“I seriously don’t know what I’d do if a woman told me she wasn’t feeling it. My dick would probably shrink three sizes and disappear inside itself.”
True sputters on the drink she has raised to her mouth. “Your dick disappears inside itself? How?”
“It’s called shrinkage.” I can’t believe I’m telling her this, but I’ve had a few drinks and I’m kind of a lightweight for a dude so big.
She makes me nervous, and it’s starting to show.
“Shrinkage?”
“Yeah—never mind, forget I mentioned it.” The last thing I want is True Wallace visualizing my dick as a shriveled-up piece of prune cock; I need to shut my damn mouth.
I’m an idiot.
“Too late.” She giggles, sticking a slice of pineapple onto the tines of her fork and chewing the end of it. Juice escapes her mouth and slides down the side of her chin.
Mmm, drool.
Don’t care, still sexy.
Methinks True Wallace could have a runny nose right now and I’d still think she was the sexiest thing in the room.
It’s certainly not because I’m supposed to stay away from her, although it’s been ages since her brother warned me off.
What he doesn’t know won’t hurt us.
Harmless flirting, harmless fun.
That’s what weddings are all about for us single folk, yeah?
I swipe at the dribble with my forefinger, and she giggles again nervously. Licks her lips.
Smiles.
“Are you excited about going back to work?” she asks, chewing.
“I wouldn’t use the word excited.”
“What word would you use?”
“I don’t know—resigned?” Work is work, and what’s the point when you have no one to come home to? When all your weekends are filled with idly lying on the couch, staring up at the television, texting your freaking SISTERS because you have no social life.
I’m ready for a relationship.
I’d venture to say I’m ready for a family of my own.
It’s not strange that I’m thinking about kids; I have all those nieces and nephews already—I come from a big family. It’s preprogramed into my body to want children.
I’ve sown my wild oats.
I’ve made many mistakes, both on and off the field, in bed and out.
“What do you mean by resigned? Like, you’re blah about it?”
Exactly.
“Pretty much. So I fly to Arizona, rent a place for the preseason, eat out because it’s just me. My family isn’t there, I don’t have a wife, I’m not dating, I hate meaningless sex.” I take a swig of my drink. “I learned the term demisexual a few months back, and I’ve realized that’s what I am.”
The admission spills out of me.
Her nose twitches. “What the heck is a demisexual?”
I clear my throat for the definition. “It’s…when you’re more sexually attracted to someone after you’ve formed an emotional bond.”
“Uh…you’re telling me you only like having sex with a woman after you’ve gotten to know her?” She’s snickering. “Yeah right.”
“Why don’t you believe me?”
True sizes me up, gaze lingering on my broad shoulders and the loosened tie around my neck. “Well for starters, you have women throwing themselves at you.”
“So? That doesn’t mean my dick is available for free rides.”
Shit.
That sounded terrible.
Stop saying dick, you idiot.
“Men who are as good-looking as you are always sleep around.”
“First of all, no we don’t.” Okay fine, I used to. “Second of all, you think I’m good-looking?”
True’s snort is very unladylike. “Please, you know you are.”
“Necesito más información.” Tell me more.