Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
“That was one time,” I argued as I took a sip of my drink.
They were treating me like they always did, despite the deep shit I was in, and I appreciated that. The stakes were high. If I didn’t get my anger in check, I could lose the team I worked my ass off for.
“And the umpire was being a dick. Besides,” I continued. “I’m not an asshole to women. They know where they stand with me from the start, and most are more than happy to abide by the boundaries I set. It’s not my fault you two fell head over heels with the first women you saw,” I teased, winking back at Daisy and Brynn, who shook their heads at me. “Cross, man, back me up here.”
Crossland raised his hands. “You know I’m with you,” he said. “No need for relationships when you have endless entertainment at your fingertips.” A smug as hell smirk flashed over his face as he looked at Gareth, who was still working on his bet. “But,” he continued. “I would be shocked as hell if you could get a woman to actually like you,” he said.
“They all like me,” I argued.
“No, I mean actually fall for you for more than just a night.”
I scoffed. “If I wanted that, I could easily make a woman fall for me for weeks, months even. I’ve just never tried.” Not since my heart was torn to shreds. What was the point of letting someone else get that close again only to open myself up for that kind of pain?
“That sounds like a bet,” Crossland said, eying Gareth, who cocked a brow at me.
“It did sound like a bet,” Gareth said, tilting his head. He finally scribbled something over the blank chip and tossed it right in front of me.
I furrowed my brow, taking a second to read his handwriting. “You’re fucking kidding me,” I said.
“You don’t have to call,” Gareth said, smirking. He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head, showing off more of the ink over his muscles like that was supposed to intimidate me.
It didn’t. But only because he was my friend. I’d never want to be on the wrong side of his opinion.
“You’re serious?” I asked, wanting to clarify. “This isn’t a usual bet.”
Gareth shrugged. “Maybe I’m bored.”
“Our monthly games getting a little slow for you?” Crossland asked, sipping his drink. “I can see how betting millions and flying with no safety net is pale compared to your previous life.”
Gareth shot Cross a warning glare, but Cross just smiled right back at him. The guy was fearless, maybe recklessly so, but there was no danger here. Not between us.
Doyle, on the other hand? Gareth had his number since the second he’d weaseled his way into our game, and maybe that was the reason Doyle shut up about my very public mistake the second Gareth had shot him a look. Maybe he’d learned that we wouldn’t put up with his bullshit.
“What’s the bet?” Brynn asked, curiosity flickering over her features as she hopped up from her spot and leaned over Weston to read the chip. She gasped.
“What is it?” Daisy asked, following her to read it. “Oh, this game just got really interesting.”
“Really?” I asked, looking at them. “I figured you two would be absolutely against this.”
They shared a glance, the women already having some secret connection that none of us could ever interpret.
“It’s giving How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days vibes,” Daisy offered, and I cocked a brow at her in question. “It’s a rom-com,” she explained. “You should absolutely watch it. But this bet is one-sided,” she continued. “Making a woman fall in love with you in three months or you have to give ten million to Gareth’s favorite charity? It seems like a win-win to me.”
“This isn’t one of your romance novel plots, Daisy,” I said, a laugh coloring my tone. “It’s my life. It’s someone else’s life.”
“You seem to be under the impression that I believe you can make her fall for you,” Daisy fired back, a playful smile on her lips. Asher grinned, smoothing his hand down her back in approval.
“Brynn,” I said, turning to focus on her. “Surely you’ll be my voice of reason.”
Brynn studied me for a moment, then grinned. “Let me ask you something,” she said, raising her brows at me. “Would you act differently?”
“What do you mean?”
“Would you put on a façade to get the girl in question to fall for you?”
“Do I look like the theater type?” I asked.
She laughed, shaking her head. “Never have been since I’ve known you.”
“Then that answers your question,” I said. I wasn’t one to hide a thing—not my temper, my passion, or my weakness for milkshakes, and I wouldn’t start now.
“Jesus Christ,” Doyle grumbled, pushing away from the table. “If I could call a clock on you, I would. This is ridiculous.”