Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“This is my favorite pattern,” he announced, standing on the last step.
“Why?” I asked suspiciously.
“I like lips on my junk,” he said as he strolled over and sat on the stool beside me.
“Of course.”
Xavier glanced down at his salad, then at mine. “Where’s your chicken and avocado?”
“Your show made me hungry,” I said without thinking about it.
Xavier’s expression made me lift the fork and poke his side with it.
I narrowed my eyes. “Last warning.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything,” he said, rubbing his side.
“Your expression did.”
We spent the remainder of the afternoon going through several interview questions for online magazines and Rugby World, as well as a few fan emails that required a more thorough reply.
It was almost seven when I glanced at my watch. “It’s later than I thought.”
Xavier looked up from the last fan letter. Thankfully, he’d by now changed into jeans and a gray shirt. “Why don’t you make good on that Spiderman movie marathon you promised me.”
I frowned. I had really liked the idea, but after seeing Xavier half naked the majority of the day, I wasn’t sure anymore if it was safe to be around him after work as well. Don’t be ridiculous, Evie.
Even if Xavier’s body gave me all kinds of fantasies, my body definitely didn’t have that effect on him. In the month that I’d worked for him, I’d seen him with twenty women, all of them tall, thin, fit, and breathtakingly gorgeous. I could bind myself to Xavier in my birthday suit and it wouldn’t get his pulse up. “Why not,” I said.
Surprise flashed across Xavier’s face, and then he smiled. Not the cocky, the challenging, the arrogant smile. A real smile. One I’d never seen on his face before, and my pulse rate doubled.
“Since I don’t have training tomorrow, why don’t we treat ourselves to some ribs and French fries from my favorite fast-food joint?” Xavier asked, getting up from the barstool to grab his phone and a takeout menu.
“Sounds perfect,” I said.
After Xavier had put in his order, he opened the fridge and took out two bottles of beer that didn’t look like the low-carb dishwater he called beer. “Got a few craft beers in preparation.”
I hopped off the stool and joined him in front of the fridge, surprised. “You didn’t know I’d agree to a movie night.”
He shrugged. “You’re working late all the time, might as well have a beer you enjoy when you’re here.”
I blinked up at him, but he drew his eyes away with a small frown. I scanned the inside of the fridge, finding beer bottles of different sizes and forms. All of them craft beers. “What’s your rec for the ribs?” I asked.
Xavier held up the two bottles. “Oatmeal stout from a brewery I visited with Marc a while back. They sell their beers in a small craft beer shop in the Rocks.”
He opened the bottles then handed me one. We clanked bottles. “Cheers,” I said.
“Cheers.”
For some reason, the atmosphere shifted slightly. Maybe it was because it was the first time we were in his apartment without it being work-related. I took a sip of the stout, and smiled around the bottleneck. “That’s what I call beer.”
“It’s one of my favorites.”
“If Fiona knew I wasn’t stopping you from having an alcoholic beverage, she’d blow a gasket.”
“I don’t think that’s what would piss her off the most about this.”
I frowned. “Did she say something to you at the barbecue?”
“She doesn’t want us to spend time together.”
“We work together.”
“Outside of work. She thinks I have ulterior motives.”
“And? Do you?” I said with a laugh.
He grinned. “Always. But you don’t have to worry. You aren’t the focus of any of them.”
Ouch. I took another sip. “Does it make sense to start with the movie?”
Xavier nodded.
We settled on the sofa together, which felt strange. We’d sat there before when we’d worked, but not like this. Xavier made sure to keep an arm-length between us when he sank down.
Luckily the food arrived soon and together with the movie managed to relax me. Xavier and I quickly resumed our banter while drinking beer and eating the most delicious ribs I’d had in a long time.
“You are the only girl I know who enjoys drinking and eating as much as I do,” he said with a laugh.
I flushed. That was because I wasn’t a size zero. I stared down at my upper thighs, which were touching. No thigh gap for me. Ever.
Xavier leaned back again, his eyes returning to the movie but now his arm was stretched out on the backrest, his hand behind my back. For some reason it was awfully distracting.
“You can’t possibly prefer him as Spiderman,” Xavier said when the famous kissing scene flashed across the TV screen. “He kisses the girl as if he’s a limp dishrag. There’s no passion. Nothing.”