Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“Zach?” His voice comes from behind me. I hurry to end the call and turn around and oh, damn. How had I forgotten how good looking he is? “What are you doing here?”
“I talked to Professor Lawrence.”
“You did?” He lets the door fall closed.
“Yes, and I had this whole scene in my head where I knocked on your door and you opened it, and I jumped on you and told you everything was sorted and we can finally do it already and—”
“Breathe, Zach.”
I do. “Thank you.”
He cocks his head. “You came over to tell me you want to fuck?”
Oh dear. I swallow. “Yes. I’m ready. I …” I trail off as I notice his hockey bag. “Are you going to practice?”
He nods as his gaze slowly trails down my body, and I barely hold back a shiver.
“Right, well. Rotten timing.” I force a laugh. “Maybe we can readjourn later.”
Foster steps closer and when his fingers slide under my chin, I almost laugh at the tingles that spread over my face. He leans in. “You want me to come over after practice? Hold you close while I fuck you in your bed?”
I’m not so sure my eyes don’t roll back at that imagery. “Yes, please.”
He releases me and steps back again. “I want something first.”
“Anything.”
“I want to take you out.”
Ah, what? “What?”
“Yeah. I want to do something with you.”
“This time you are talking about an actual date, right?” My voice shakes.
“Yes.”
“You don’t have—”
“I know I don’t have to. Is this you saying no? Should I assume you only want me for my body?”
My cheeks heat. “I haven’t seen your body.”
“Yet.”
“Sweet Jesus.”
Foster laughs. “This weekend. I’m taking you out, then we’ll see what happens.”
“Sex.” I swallow. “Sex will happen.”
He laughs harder and cups his crotch. “You’re determined to make sure I’m hard all through practice, aren’t you?”
“Will it make you think of me?”
His eyes soften. “You’re assuming I don’t already.”
I can’t help my smile. Can’t help being swept up in the moment and forgetting to worry about what comes next. He leaves me a ball of nerves and excitement as I realize this is another first.
And I haven’t even begun to research dating yet.
19
Foster
Zach looks absolutely adorably hot. Adorably hot is not exactly a cohesive description, but I don’t know how else to put it. He’s wearing the tightest jeans I’ve ever seen him in, his hair has some sort of product worked through it, and he’s wearing a button-down shirt that’s about a size too big.
He stands at his door, blinking at me as if he’s forgotten how to talk.
I lean in. “I think the word you’re looking for is hi.”
“Umm … hi.”
“Yay, good start.” I run my gaze over him again, and the shirt thing clicks. “Did my brother dress you?”
His eyes widen. “No! Umm, maybe.”
Seth appears behind him.
Why is my family determined to interrupt my not-so-innocent thoughts of Zach?
I bow to my brother. “Well played. Nothing is a better cockblocker than knowing my date is wearing my twin’s clothes.”
Seth laughs.
“I can’t wait for you to meet some girl. There is going to be payback. I don’t know how yet, but there will be.”
Zach looks down at his shirt. “Should I change?”
“Nope.” I grab his hand. “Hope you know how to sew, brother, because that shirt’s coming back buttonless.”
“Okay, okay, you win. He can keep the damn shirt. Now it’s his. Just don’t hurt it.”
I’ll defile it instead.
I interlace my fingers with Zach’s as I lead him across campus to Greek row.
“Where are we going?”
“Frat party.”
“W-what? Is that your idea of romance?”
“Nope. It’s my idea of college.” I stop walking and tug on his hand. “College experience number I’ve-lost-count: frat party.” I smile wide.
“Seth took me to a few parties.”
“Frat parties? How long did you stay?”
He stares up at me defiantly. “I’ll have you know, I lasted two drinks at one of them.”
“Whoa. I take it all back. You’re a party animal, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep up. Have you sought counselling for your partying addiction?”
Zach shoves me with a laugh. “Shut up.”
I love playful Zach.
“Are you forgetting the whole”—he points to himself—“doesn’t do well in groups thing?”
I pull him along again. “Yes, we’re going to a party, and yes, there will be lots of people there, but you’re forgetting the most important part.”
“Awkward conversations and small talk with people I don’t know?”
“Funny, but no. I will be right beside you the whole time, and we’ll get to stand there and analyze everyone.”
It’s Zach’s turn to stop walking. “H-how do you know I do that?”
“I’ve seen you do it. You look at everyday interactions like they’re fascinating. You do it in class, and you were doing it that day in the dining hall.” I shrug. “It’s your thing.”
He still looks unsure.
“If you ever become uncomfortable, we can leave. I promise.”