Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 131271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
“Yes.” Her voice is low and breathy, and I shudder with an awareness I’ve never experienced before.
I turn to Forester, who is staring at me like I’ve grown a second head. “If I ever catch you near my girl or any other girl like that, I’m going to twist your fucking hands off. Do you understand me?”
His expression flickers between his instinct to come at me and the real prospect of him taking a beating, but then his buddy shifts his weight like he’s gonna put himself between us if necessary, and Bryan decides against doing something stupid. He knows I always roll with my brothers, and they won’t be far. He knows that hockey players throw down more than any other athletes. He might have a few pounds on me, but I could batter the shit out of him before even raises a fist.
Keeping my hand on the girl, I encourage her to walk out into the hallway, maintaining eye contact with Bryan until we’re through the doorway.
It’s only then that I breathe.
The music is pounding, and people, unaware of what just happened, push past us, but the girl stays close to me. Her body trembles against my palm. I guess her adrenaline is spiking.
“Jesus.” She presses her hands to her face. When she looks up at me, her eyes are wide with surprise. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know.” I shrug, dropping my hand.
“I was handling it.”
“I know.” I smile. Bryan had more than a foot of height on her, but she was ready to scrap with him. She’s feisty.
Her tight shoulders lower as she focuses on the wall behind me. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
She leans in close, and I dip my head a little.
“So, I’m your girl? How are you going to explain it when they find out I’m not?”
“Well…” I shove my hands into my pockets, curving my shoulders as I look at the floor. She’s wearing cute pink shoes, and her toenails match. I don’t know why that fact makes my mouth dry, but it does. “I guess it would help if you played along. Just for tonight.”
“Is this your way of trying to get laid?” she asks. “Because I’m pretty sure there are easier ways to go about it without risking a beating from an ogre.”
“There was no risk.” My tone is surprisingly cold and calm, and she blinks, surprised. As we stare at each other, I swear her eyes get darker, like her pupils are trying to swallow more light. “And I’m not trying to get laid.”
Her eyebrow arches, and I stare at her mouth, the pretty cupid’s bow of her pouty lips and her white, straight teeth behind them. I’m not trying to get laid, but a kiss would be nice. Her kiss would be nice. Feeling her body loosen against mine after witnessing her rage and fight would be fucking awesome.
“So, you’re just an all-around good Samaritan?”
“Men who touch women that way…” I shake my head.
“That’s most guys at this college,” she says. “The sense of entitlement is extreme.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
She folds her arms and lets her gaze sweep over my length, assessing me, taking a step forward which puts her right into my personal space and tipping her face to adjust to our height difference. “I can’t be your girl, Hayes Drayton,” she whispers. Then, on tiptoes, she presses a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth, lingering for a second before pulling back. It’s like saying thank you; sweet, but not enough. Her cheeks heat, and she blinks her long brown lashes in a gesture that’s like a reset, shaking her head like she’s dazed and confused and is coming back to reality.
I swallow a giant ball of want from my throat. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”
She smiles. “Thanks for rescuing me. My very own knight in shining jeans and hoodie.”
“Play along,” I say. “Just for tonight.”
She touches her hair, stroking a strand down to the tip. “What would playing along look like?”
I glance back into the kitchen, finding Bryan staring. Further down the hallway, Shawn is dancing, and Jacob is probably somewhere fucking.
“Come outside with me,” I say. “Just for appearances.”
She glances over her shoulder, maybe looking for friends, definitely reluctant, but I guess she must feel like she owes me, because she turns and makes her way to the front door, leaving me to trail after her.
I’m so rusty at this; my brothers would be mortified, but I can’t drag my eyes away from the obscene curve of her hips and the swell of her big booty. I’m like a snake that’s been charmed and can only slither in one direction, right behind her.
Outside, the air is cooler, but it’s welcome. I’m sweating and decide to tug my hoodie over my head in case she’s cold. I follow her around the side of the house until she stops. Her hands cross her body to rub her bare upper arms, squeezing her boobs together. Whatever words I prepared to say leave my brain. At least I still have the sense to hand her the sweater.