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)
"I wouldn't mind kicking the shit out of him on national television," Archer says, shocking everyone.
"What the fuck did he do to piss you off, Cap?"
Archer's gaze flickers toward Jordan and then away before he shrugs. "Maybe I just think he deserves it," he says quietly, leaning back in his chair.
Logan catches my gaze, one brow arches as if to ask if I knew that Archer knew what happened between Jordan and Jamison. I just shrug in response. Jordan adamantly refuses to share the details no matter how often the guys ask him about it, but I'm not really surprised he told Archer. Frankly, I'd be more surprised if he didn't. Archer knows everything. It's fucking wild how much of our shit he picks up on and files away.
"Fuck," Jordan mutters suddenly. "Uh, Whatley. You may want to look at the news, man."
"Why? What did the motherfucker publish?"
"He didn't." Jordan slides his phone across the table toward me, his face carefully blank. "I think she did."
What the fuck?
I snatch the phone up, flipping it around to read.
Emilia Lariat confirms she's dating Nash Whatley
Emilia Lariat, daughter to longtime Coach Aaron Lariat of the Washington Carvers, released a statement earlier today confirmed that she and Nash Whatley, the newest addition to the Washington Carvers' roster, are a couple.
"This isn't some big scandal, as much as some would like to try to twist it into one," read the statement sent to us by Alice Madison, publicist for team. "We're two private people living public lives who fell in love. Quite simply, Nash is the best man I've ever known. That's the story."
Whatley joined the Carvers this season after entering unrestricted free agency status last year. According to sources, Lariat was recently hired as the staff psychologist for the Carvers organization.
No word yet from Coach Lariat on his daughter's statement.
"What did she do?" I mutter, my heart in my throat. Jesus Christ. She just… I drop Jordan's phone, jerking to my feet. "I've gotta go."
"Where?" Logan asks, his brows furrowed.
I don't answer, already striding toward the front door.
Archer catches up to me halfway across the restaurant. "We have a game tomorrow, brother," he reminds me, following me out the door.
"I know. Fuck." I shove a hand through my hair, my mind racing. "I need to get to her. I need…"
"Go back to the hotel. I'll call Alice and figure out how to get her on a plane to you."
My fucking knees threaten to buckle. I grip his shoulder, squeezing. "Thank you."
"Go." He jerks his head, grinning at me.
He doesn't have to tell me twice. I spin on my heel, jogging down the sidewalk toward the hotel. She just told the entire world that we're together. No. She told the entire world that she's in love with me.
Jesus Christ.
For a girl convinced she'll ruin my career, she really does have brass balls.
I don't know if Lariat heard me today. At this point, I don't really care if he believes I'm the best choice for her or not. The only thing that matters to me—the only thing that's really mattered in all of this—is what she wants, what she needs, and what's best for her. For weeks, I told myself that letting her do this her way in her time was the best thing for her. I thought if I pushed just enough, teased her with the thought of us getting caught often enough, eventually she'd realize that she can't hide us or hide from us forever.
I went about that shit all wrong. What she needed was for me to tell Lariat the shit I told him today. He has failed her. He did make shit harder on her than it had to be. And she'll never have a chance to be the woman he raised if he can't back the fuck off and let her.
The man adores his daughter. There's no disputing that. But you can't smother the things you love, especially not when those things are women like Emilia. She needs to be every wild piece of herself. At some point, he has to cut the fucking cord and let her.
I've got her from here. I will always have her. Whether he sends me to Pennsylvania or trades me off the team or makes my life a living hell, it won't change the facts. And the facts are real fucking simple.
His daughter is mine. Every wild, beautiful piece of her belongs to me now.
And I intend to be a motherfucking beast when it comes to loving her.
I burst into the hotel lobby like the hounds of hell are nipping at my heels. Too impatient to wait for the elevator, I turn for the stairs, racing up to my room on the third floor. I need to get her on the phone. I need to hear her voice. Hell, I need to see that beautiful face. I've got shit to say—important shit.