Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
We’ll do it a few times, get it out of our systems, and then it’ll be over with.
I can just imagine what Ford will be like in bed. He’s a pretty boy who’s always been chased after. He’s never had to work to get a girl’s attention. He probably expects his partner—or partners—to do everything.
I’ve been with guys like that.
It gets old fast.
The last thing I want to do is get myself over the finish line after getting some dude off. The more I think about it, the more sense it makes. Deep down in a place I’m loath to admit, I’ve secretly wondered what it would be like to have sex with Ford. Now I can do it and put all the burning questions to rest.
I’m sure once or twice will be more than enough.
It takes a while for our group to filter out of the packed arena. The Wildcats hockey games are always popular and well attended. Not only with the students at the university but the town as well. People come from all over the state to watch the action. Most fans head out the double set of glass doors and into the crisp night air, but some hang around in the lobby, waiting for the players to get released from the locker room.
We stand in a loose group with Juliette’s parents, Crawford, Peter Bowman, and his daughter. I probably should have expected them to stick around so they could say hello to Ford, but it still irritates me.
I just want them to take off.
My fingers twist together as questions flood my brain.
What if I’m too late and he changed his mind?
It’s no secret that I’ve been dragging my feet about giving him an answer.
I saw Ford in class yesterday and in a surprising twist, he didn’t press me for a decision. I thought that was kind of odd at the time but maybe…
Maybe he’s over it.
Over me.
I nibble my bottom lip, all the while trying to figure out a course of action as the players filter out of the locker room. Air gets clogged in my lungs as I search each new face, looking for Ford.
It’s only when all of the players have trickled out that I decide to take matters into my own hands.
Chapter Fourteen
Ford
I tip my face toward the hot spray of water and allow it to wash over me. As much as I tried to keep my attention solely focused on the game, it was difficult with Carina in the stands. The moment I stepped onto the ice, I spotted her blonde head.
I was so fixated on her that it took a while to realize Dad was also there.
Along with Peter Bowman and his daughter.
A disgruntled sigh escapes from me. I’m not looking forward to walking out of the locker room. I’ll probably get roped into a late dinner. Even though I made it perfectly clear that I have no intention of getting involved with Jaclyn, I should have realized Dad would take matters into his own hands. He’s been pushing me toward her for years.
“Get a move on it, Hamilton,” Bridger calls out. “You’re hogging all the hot water.”
“I’ll be out when I’m damn good and ready,” I shout back.
My hope is that if I dawdle long enough, they’ll take off without me.
It’s probably wishful thinking on my part.
Dad has visions of cementing his business partnership with a marriage between their children and keeping everything in the family. It’s fucking medieval, if you ask me.
It takes another five minutes for the rowdy voices to fade until there’s nothing but the sound of running water to echo off the tile. Only then do I twist the handle and the heavy spray turns into more of a trickle. I thrust my hands through my wet strands, shoving them away from my eyes before grabbing a towel from the neat stack and drying my face. After everything else has been wiped down, I wrap the damp material around my waist.
I turn the corner and skid to a halt when I spot Carina loitering near a bank of black lockers. I blink, wondering if I’ve conjured her up out of thin air and it’s nothing more than a fever dream. Lord knows I’ve thought about her enough over the past couple of days for my mind to play tricks on me.
Our gazes stay locked as the air around us turns charged. Expectant. I’ve never experienced this level of explosive chemistry with anyone else before and it’s addictive.
“Yes.”
That one word is like a punch to the gut.
No further explanation is necessary.
“When?” The question shoots out of my mouth and is more of an impatient bark.
With a jerk of her shoulders, she leans against the lockers. Unable to keep my distance, I prowl closer. It’s as if there’s an invisible string drawing me to her. The lure is impossible to resist.