Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86614 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86614 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“Yeah?” I asked carefully. I couldn’t decide if Ramsey getting back together with a former flame was better or worse than him hooking up with another guy. Both sucked to imagine. “So are you gonna?”
“Fuck no.” He barked out a laugh as relief drenched me. Crisis averted. “It just got me thinking…” Oh shit, nope, back to full alert. He hesitated again. “It just got me thinking that maybe I wasn’t picky enough before, and maybe I let myself be that way, take what came easiest, because I never wanted to get too invested in something that could drag my focus too far from the game, too far from making sure I never went down the paths my dad did. I was always thinking of the game. Sometimes I regret that.”
“I totally get it.” I’d done my own version of the same. “That’s okay, though. It happens. And when something comes along that’s right, you’ll know it’s right, you know?” God, what the fuck was I even saying? Because as I threw out words meant to reassure him, they rang true through my gut with a bittersweet ache.
“Maybe.” Ramsey’s knuckles pressed against my back, loosening the tension there. “I didn’t say any of that looking for reassurance or something. That’s not info you’re supposed to do anything with. It was just on my mind. Everything was…easy with you.”
Fuck my life. “But came with its own set of complications.”
“It did, yeah. I guess I just wanted you to know that despite everything or how it might all play out, I don’t regret anything you and I did.”
“I don’t either.” Double fuck my life, because I did look over my shoulder then, to find Ramsey’s blue gaze. Our eyes locked, and I’d been right; I definitely wanted to pounce him.
“Garrett,” Ramsey’s voice was a quiet command.
“Yeah?”
“You have to get the fuck off my bed now.”
I nodded and hopped back over to mine, too afraid to make one of my usual quips until there was more space between us. He’d been hard too. I’d seen it as I moved. Now my mouth was dry, my dick aching. I scrambled for a distraction and reached to put the top back on the balm. “Jesus,” I said, glancing into the little pot to find it near empty. I was gonna smell like this stuff for days, get it all over the sheets. “How much of this shit did you put on me?”
“Exactly the amount you wanted me to.” Ramsey smirked and flipped off the TV. “You know me. Concerned teammate and all, just wanted to make sure your muscles were properly soothed.”
“Yeah, you’re very dedicated that way.” Damn, the images just saying something like that conjured. Ramsey’s hand smoothing down my back, his fingers patiently working me open… I thrust the memory from my mind and pulled the covers around me.
Ramsey reached out and switched off the light.
“Have you ever jacked off with this stuff?” I asked into the darkness.
“The fuck? No!”
“Good. I do not recommend it.”
“If you start jerking off over there and give yourself third-degree burns, you can suffer alone.”
“But I thought you were my concerned teammate. You wouldn’t soothe my dick? Sounds like dereliction of duty.”
“Night, G.”
I grinned. “Night, Rams.”
25
RAMSEY
Los Angeles was one of my favorite cities to play in. Yeah, I fucking hated the team, and Whitt was a dickhead of epic proportions, but I loved playing here. There was something electric about it, an extra current of energy zipping through the air, all coming from the fans that loved their team so much.
That made the win even sweeter when we kicked our rivals’ asses.
And we would tonight. I’d make damn sure of it.
I wanted that for G. Wanted him to claim the W from the team I was pretty sure he already felt plagued him.
Even though there was no reason to, he blamed himself for our loss the first time we went against them earlier this season. The second time hadn’t been his fault, but they’d beaten us a-fucking-gain, and there was no way I was accepting that shit this time. Not in the first game of the playoffs. They wouldn’t be the reason our season ended early.
I caught Garrett’s gaze. He’d just finished getting his uniform on. As if feeling my eyes on him, he glanced my way, and I winked. Fuck, I missed him. It had taken everything in me the other night not to strip him bare and bury myself in his ass until I fucked away all the want inside me, want that should have been extinguished by now, but it hadn’t been. All it did was grow, multiplying at an even faster rate now that I couldn’t have him anymore.
I hadn’t watched even one single episode of The Good Place without him because it wasn’t as enjoyable without Garrett teasing and saying, “What the fork,” along with Kristen Bell.