Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 96712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
If I was ever curious to know what two hundred pounds of awkward looked like, I’m staring at it as Talon tries to leave. He opens the door, but it gets stuck on his big foot. That doesn’t stop him from trying to walk through the half-open door. He headbutts the edge and lets out a curse.
“Shit, are you all right?” Matt asks.
Talon waves him off and rushes out the door.
“I need to go talk to him,” Matt says.
“Okay. Maybe I can get a room, and—”
“It’s like school camp for me right now.” Matt rummages for his clothes and starts dressing. “Even if I were to sneak out of my room, this hotel is fully booked with the team. I won’t be able to leave without someone knowing.”
I climb out of bed. “Guess I’m keeping my scheduled flight home then.”
Matt deflates. “This sucks. I don’t want you to go, but—”
“I understand. This is your job, and I’m not supposed to be here. I’ll go home to New York and pack and—”
“Crap. What about JJ?”
“He can stay at the house however long he needs it. Look after it for me while I’m gone.”
“What if you set up your charity here and then the Warriors dump me? Maybe we should sit down and think—”
I step forward. “Babe. I’m going where you go. I don’t care how we make it work or what we have to do to make it happen. It’s happening. Got it?”
Matt nods. “Got it.”
“Now, go talk to your freaked-out roommate, and I’ll see you in a few weeks. In our apartment.”
“Our apartment.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Matt
How the hell do I play this? Casual. Calm. Apologetic?
Maybe I should’ve got Noah to apologize. He made me launch myself at him and totally forget about the fact I have a roommate that could’ve come back at any moment.
I stare at Talon sitting at the hotel bar a little longer than I probably should, but he doesn’t appear freaked out. He’s not chugging drinks, he doesn’t look pale or sickened by what he saw. He sits there sipping his scotch or bourbon—whatever the dark liquid is—with a concentration line across his forehead.
Taking a deep breath, I approach and pull the stool up next to him. “So, uh … that happened.” Great opener, Matt.
Talon snorts.
“I just want to say I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Noah agreed to move to Chicago, and I kind of jumped him. I shouldn’t have done that, and I’m sorry for putting you in this weird position, and it won’t happen again, and—”
“Whoa, Jackson. It’s okay. Wait, do you think I’m pissed you were hooking up in our room? You think I haven’t seen that type of shit before on the road?”
True. I’ve been kicked out of shared hotel rooms over the years, but this is different. “Not with two guys, no.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t care you’re with a guy. I thought we already established that? I think I fucked up. I wasn’t expecting it, and instead of doing what I normally do, which is back away as quietly as I can and disappear for an hour or so, I froze … and now I feel like a creep. For, like, watching and stuff.”
My eyes widen.
“Not for ages or anything. I was taken off guard and I couldn’t move, and then it was all over, and I had to say something or you would’ve thought I’d been there the whole time, but I wasn’t, and … Oh my God, I’m digging a hole here.”
I laugh. “Can we totally forget this ever happened? You’re not a creep. I’ll never sneak Noah into a hotel room again, and if you ask for a new roommate, I will totally understand.”
“Not going to ask for a new roommate, dickhead.”
“Good talk. I’m going to bed … to, uh, sleep. Noah’s gone home.”
“Thanks for the heads-up. I mean, probably could’ve done with a heads-up about an hour ago—”
“Never discussing it again, remember?”
“Right. I’ll be up soon. Just gonna finish my drink.”
“Don’t drink too much. Coach will kill you and make tomorrow hell for all of us.”
“It’s training camp. It’s going to be hell no matter what.”
“Especially for me,” I murmur.
Talon throws back the rest of his drink and stands. “You’re not worried about getting cut, are you? We’re untouchables. Coach said so at the press conference.”
“And what if we’re all fooling ourselves, and we get out there tomorrow, and they’re all gunning for me to fail?”
“Because you like dudes? You have no faith in the world, do you?”
“Well, when your own family disowns you for it, you have no expectations when it comes to people you’ve never met.”
He grabs my shoulder. “Go out there and do your best. You’ll prove you belong on this team.”
“I’m ready to make football my bitch.”
Flat on my back, staring up at the clear sky, I wonder what it is about football that I love, because right now I can’t think of a single reason.