Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Prentice was at the grill flipping burgers, though his gaze continually strayed to his new wife, Naomi, and their baby. Naomi’s brother, one of our defensive linemen, was helping a heavily pregnant Ember—his wife and Naomi’s best friend—sit down.
It seemed like something was in the stadium water because my single teammates were dropping like flies. First Hale—our starting wide receiver—and Lisa, then Prentice and Naomi, followed by Nixon and Ember, and now Jordan and Wrenley. I decided to stick with sports drinks from now on.
2
Marleigh
Sunlight was streaming through the slats of my blinds when my phone buzzing pulled me from a deep sleep. Snaking my hand out of my blanket cocoon, I slapped my palm against my bedside table a few times before finding my phone.
Staying in bed until one was a luxury I didn’t often have, but I’d stayed up until the wee hours of the morning bingeing my favorite reality television on the big screen in the living room. My roommate—who also happened to be my best friend—would have complained about watching the absolute best season of the fashion design competition. That was probably fair since I had already forced her to sit through it at least a dozen times. And because she knew that I had watched it only a few weeks ago while she was out of town.
Wrenley had been gone for a whole month, and I had missed the crap out of her. So I was surprised by how much I enjoyed having the apartment to myself again last night. She had only been back for one day before her big date with the hot offensive lineman she’d been crushing on for the past four weeks. I wasn’t surprised she hadn’t come back, not after the way Jordan had looked at Wrenley when he’d come to pick her up for the gala.
My lips curved into a huge smile when my brain finally started to shake off the fog and I realized that Wrenley’s name was on the screen. Stabbing my finger against the green button to answer her call, I pressed the phone against my ear and mumbled, “Since you’re not back yet, I take it your date went well?”
“Ah, yeah…you could definitely say that.” Her soft laughter drifted down the line.
I snuggled against my pillow, my smile widening to the point my cheeks hurt. “And you didn’t believe me when I said that your football player had an eye for you.”
“After last night, there’s no denying it.”
I noticed that she didn’t correct me over calling Jordan hers like she had the last time I used the term. Then again, considering what they had probably been up to all night long, it wasn’t as though she could argue over the description. “Mm-hmm.”
“I know what you’re thinking.”
I couldn’t resist teasing my best friend. “That I was right, and you were oh-so wrong?”
“Go ahead,” she sighed. “Get it all out.”
“You’re coming up on a full twenty-four hours for your fake date with Jordan. How real did it become?”
“It’s about to get longer,” she muttered.
My eyes widened. “Did he do such a good job deflowering you that you’re spending another night with him?”
“Deflowering?” she sputtered on a laugh. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”
“Would you prefer me to say he punched your V-card? Popped your cherry? Visited your flower shop?” I ran through all the synonyms I could come up with off the top of my head.
“Are you done now?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“On if you’re going to pick which one you want me to go with when you spill all the deets about your date,” I quipped.
“Fine,” she huffed. “Let’s go with punching my V-card for me, and we’ll save popping your cherry for when you finally fall for someone.”
I rubbed the back of my neck with a frown. Wrenley had been the only person in my life who didn’t question my lack of a dating life. Then again, she couldn’t really judge me since she hadn’t met a guy who could talk her into giving him a chance until Jordan showed up at Daniel, the Michelin-starred French restaurant where my best friend worked as a hostess. “Hey, it’s not as though hot professional football players who want to shower you in fabulous clothes, shoes, and jewelry grow on trees. Especially not ones who practically devour you with their eyes.”
Her voice turned dreamy as she asked, “Did he really look at me like that?”
“Don’t be silly. Of course, he did. His jaw literally dropped when you answered the door.” I didn’t want us to get too sappy. I had a feeling if Jordan saw her sniffling, he would be pissed, even if I hadn’t upset her. “If I hadn’t been here, I’d be willing to bet good money that you never would have made it to that gala because you would’ve been too busy getting your V-card punched on our living room couch.”