Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 40046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
"We should get going too," Nash murmurs.
"We should all head out," Archer says, setting his beer on the table. "Flight leaves early in the morning."
"Don't remind me," Logan growls, glancing across the table at Peyton. "You ready to go, angel?"
"Stop calling me that, Logan."
"Sure." He shrugs. "Just as soon as you stop looking like one, baby."
She rolls her eyes, sliding out of the booth. "It was nice to meet everyone. See you later." She shoots a death glare at Logan before stomping toward the door.
"Shit," he mumbles, hopping up as laughter ripples through our group. She's been giving him hell all night. I kind of like her for it. He needs someone willing to call him on his shit.
"Stop antagonizing her, man," Micah says. "You're only making it worse for yourself."
"Fucking clearly," he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he takes off after her, looking stressed in a way he never has before.
"I don't know why the fuck he hired her," Micah mutters. "He knew she hated him, but he just can't leave shit alone."
"Yeah, well, you don't do the shit I walked in on them doing in the locker room today with someone you hate," Diego snorts.
Everyone turns wide eyes on him.
"They were fucking?"
"All I'm saying is that isn't hate, motherfuckers. That's something else." He drains his beer, standing up. "I'm out. See you in the morning."
"Us too." Nash places his hand on the small of my back, turning me toward the door.
"Wait. Where is Alice?"
"Uh…she left an hour ago," Micah says, an odd expression on his face.
"An hour ago?" Nash asks.
"Yep."
"Alone?"
"Nope."
"Jesus Christ," Nash mutters, shaking his head.
"What? Who did she leave with?"
Everyone avoids looking at me.
Nash presses his lips close to my ear. "She left with River."
"Oh." My nose scrunches. "Oh. Well, good for her, I guess." It's not a choice I'd make, but I am not going to judge her for making a different choice. Who she chooses to take to bed is not my business.
Micah laughs quietly.
"Come on," Nash murmurs, leading me toward the door.
As soon as we're outside, I lean my head against his shoulder, peering up at him. "Thank you," I say softly.
He glances down at me. "For what?"
"For tonight. For bringing me."
"You're part of the organization too, Emilia. You belonged at that table just as much as everyone else there."
"I know. I just…" I shrug, not sure how to explain how much I needed tonight. How much I needed a night to just be a normal couple doing normal couple things without worrying about my dad or any of that. "Thank you."
He turns me toward him, cupping my cheek. "You don't owe me thanks, princess," he murmurs. "As soon as your dad knows about us, we'll be doing shit like this a whole lot more often."
"I tried to tell him this morning," I whisper. "I asked him if he regretted giving up hockey for me."
"And?" Nash asks.
"He doesn't." I pause before sighing. "I chickened out before I could tell him about us, though, Nash. He got all suspicious and cranky and I just…lost my nerve. I'm such a coward."
"Hey." He pulls me into his arms, his lips brushing mine. "You've got brass balls bigger than Micah's, remember? Don't talk about yourself like that."
"I do have brass balls," I whisper, smiling despite myself. "And I am going to tell him. As soon as you guys get back, I'm telling him that we're together and he can just deal with it."
"We can tell him together."
"No, we can't." I touch his cheek, gratitude swirling through me. "This is something I have to do myself."
"You mean I have to let you slay dragons by yourself?"
"Afraid so, Whatley."
"Well, goddamn." He bends suddenly, scooping me up into his arms. "Guess I better get you home and prepare you for battle then. You can't win a war without training."
"Yeah, you think you can train me, huh?"
"Oh, I can definitely train you. We'll start with endurance." He smirks down at me, a dark promise reflecting in his gaze. "And then we'll see how much torture you can take before you break, sweet little Emilia."
"Not much," I moan, pressing my legs together as my clit throbs in anticipation.
"Guess we'll see, won't we?"
Chapter Eight
Emilia
"Nash," I moan as he presses me up against the side of the bus early the next morning, his body pinning me in place as he attacks my throat with stinging bites.
He grinds his dick against my ass, growling softly. "Still time to put you in my bag, princess," he breathes, nipping my ear. "You can be naked and waiting for me in my room after the game tomorrow."
I whimper, heat blowing through me in waves.
"I can feast on you in celebration." He licks a line down my throat, slipping a hand between us to palm my pussy. "You know that's what you want."