Rush Read Online Samantha Towle (Gods #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, New Adult, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Gods Series by Samantha Towle
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Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
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“Thank you.”

I walk over to the elevator, pressing the button, and the door opens immediately.

I step inside and hit the button for the eighth floor.

I can barely keep still while the elevator goes up. Fidgeting, I try to figure out what to say…how to say it.

Just start with the truth and go from there.

The elevator pings its arrival. The door opens, and I step out.

I don’t need to wait to figure out which is Ares’s apartment, as he’s standing in the open doorway of it, waiting for me.

Shirtless.

Sweet Lord.

Those big arms are folded across that massive, rock-hard chest of his.

He’s barefoot, wearing only dark gray sweats that sit low on his hips. I can see the happy trail of dark hair running from his navel, down into those pants, and toward his—

Christ almighty. I think there’s drool leaking out from the corner of my mouth.

I press the heel of my hand there, just to check. And, yep, there is.

Great. Come to apologize and start off by drooling over him.

Well done, Ari.

I take in a deep breath, gathering my wits, and I start to walk toward him.

He watches me, saying nothing. Eyes hooded, making them look darker than they actually are.

I gulp down. Heat and fear are a raging mixture inside of me.

When I reach him, I tip my chin up to look at his face.

Our height difference is so much more pronounced when I’m wearing flat shoes. Who am I kidding? It’s pronounced even when I’m in heels. The guy is a giant compared to me.

I part my dry lips, moistening them, ready to speak, and I intend to say, Hi, or, Thank you for seeing me, but what actually comes out is, “I went to a bar.”

His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t say anything, and then I start babbling, trying to explain my brain fart of an apology opener.

“I had a fight with my dad earlier—about you actually—and I said some things and it was awful and I was upset and I left work and started walking for my bus and it rained—can you believe it?—and then I just didn’t stop walking and then I was in town and inside a bar, ordering a drink—wine,” I say this like it will make everything better, which, in fact, it will do the exact opposite.

“But I didn’t drink it. I promise. I don’t think I ever was going to. But, after I ordered it, I called my sponsor, Luke—the guy you met—and he came and we talked and he drove me home. I was still a mess and I couldn’t let you see me like that, so I texted you, saying I was unwell, which I kind of was but not the kind of unwell that I led you to believe, and I was wrong for that and I’m so sorry. But I need you to know that I didn’t blow you off, so I could spend time with someone else, some other guy. Luke just stayed with me, as I didn’t feel ready to be alone, so he went to grab us some dinner while I cleaned up and took a shower and then you came and I was embarrassed and ashamed of what I’d done, going to the bar, and I didn’t want you to think bad of me and not want to be my friend anymore and…I messed up. And I’m sorry.”

I suck in a breath. The expression on his face hasn’t changed. Still stoic, telling me nothing. His mouth fixed in a tight line.

“So…yeah…” I twist my hands together in front of me. “I just wanted to come here and be honest with you and tell you that I’m sorry that I wasn’t honest in the first place.” I take a step back. “Well, thanks for letting me…say what I needed to. I guess…I’ll leave you to it.” I turn on my heel to leave, my face hot with sadness at his lack of response.

“Ari.”

I stop and turn at the sound of his voice, soaking it up, thirsty for it.

His arms are by his sides now. His expression is a little softer.

“Do you want to come in?” he asks, and my heart leaps.

I smile. “Yes.”

I walk back to him, and he moves aside, letting me into his apartment.

Sweet Jesus, his open-plan living room and kitchen is the size of my entire apartment and my neighbor’s apartment, put together.

“Where’s Missy?” I ask him.

“At Zeus and Cam’s.” Cam is Zeus’s fiancée and mother of their children. “She’s babysitting for them. Staying the night.” He shuts the door and moves past me. “Do you want anything to drink?” he asks.

“Water would be great. Thanks.”

He walks over into the kitchen area, and I toe off my sneakers. His cherry-wood floors are too nice to walk outside dirt on.

I step further into his apartment, over to the window by the kitchen, taking in the view.


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