Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 164557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
“Hey, judgment-free zone here,” I assure him, my lips twitching from the restraint of not doubling over again.
He lifts his head. His face is that of a man defeated. “Chapter twelve.”
I nod. “The deflowering. Nice.”
Shane sounds perplexed as he says, “Wait, your girl’s actually pissed about this? Are you not allowed to jerk off?”
“What? No, of course I am. She’s angry because I lost track of time and was an hour late for her birthday dinner. Now she thinks I ‘don’t value her time or the fact that she was born’—that’s an exact quote.”
This time, everyone manages not to bust out in hysterics.
“Oh,” Shane says, his tone tactful. “Well…I see her point.”
“Hey, what’s all the commotion back here?” demands our new assistant coach.
Mike Hollis strides over from the front of the bus. He stops in the middle of the aisle, clapping a hand on the top of the seat in front of Will’s. His gaze sweeps over the group.
“Is there a problem? Who’s beefing who?”
Shane shakes his head at the man. “No beef,” he assures him. “Just giving Lattimore some girl advice.”
Nick glares at Shane as if to say why would you ever open your mouth.
Hollis nods in understanding. “Got it. All right, lay it on me. I’m bursting with wisdom.”
I snicker under my breath.
“No, you know what? It doesn’t even matter.” Hollis leans his hip against the seat and fixes Nick with a grave look. “I have one question for you, Nicholas.”
“Please don’t call me that.”
“One question. This girl—is she wife material? You wanna marry her one day?”
I blink, not expecting that.
I don’t think Nick was either because he falters. Then he nods. “Yeah. I think so.”
“Think or know?”
“Know,” he says sheepishly.
“Then there’s only one solution to your problem. You call her up, and you say, You’re right. That’s it. You’re welcome. Just saved your relationship.”
Shane nods his agreement. “I mean, he’s not wrong.”
“I’m never wrong,” Coach Hollis says. “Why do you think I’ve been married for, like, a thousand years now? I know how to game the system. Oh, and I love my wife. That’s probably part of it too.”
“How’d you guys meet?” Colson calls out from his seat.
Hollis brightens. “Oh, it’s a great story. My daughters say it’s the most romantic story they’ve ever heard. Settle in, boys.”
Ryder and I exchange a look. We haven’t known this man long, but any love story told by Mike Hollis is bound to feature more than a few what-the-fuck twists.
“So, some people might say Rupi was stalking me,” he starts.
I rest my case.
CHARLIE:
Can I come over tonight?
The message pops up in our group chat as Will and I are leaving the Graham Center after the team bus dropped us off. Will reads it and shakes his head at me.
“What?” I say.
“You ate her out in a closet,” he chides.
“So?”
“So I don’t want her to feel pressured into hanging out again.”
“What does me going down on her in a closet have to do with that? We both know Charlie’s not the type to be pressured into anything. But just say no if you’re worried.”
He won’t say no. Because he’s as drawn to her as I am. Charlie is a beautiful mystery. Everything about her makes me want to dig as deep as I can. To crawl inside her. Make her smile. Hear her laugh.
I haven’t felt that urge since high school.
I push the thought aside. Fuck’s sake. I’m not looking to fall in love with Charlotte Kingston. I want to sleep with her again. Maybe get to know her some more. Nothing beyond that.
My phone buzzes in my hand. It’s the message Will just sent to Charlie.
LARSEN:
We’ll be home in about 30. Coming from the arena.
CHARLIE:
Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
BECKETT
The stats don’t lie
AT HOME, I GRAB A TUPPERWARE OF LEFTOVER LASAGNA THAT WILL made last night and nuke it in the microwave. It’s probably not wise to carbo-load right before a potential sex date, but I’m not taking it for granted that Charlie changed her mind about anything. And I’m famished.
“I’m gonna go take a real shower,” Will says after we’ve devoured all the leftovers. “St. Anthony’s water pressure is dogshit. I think I still have shampoo in my hair.”
A shower doesn’t sound like a bad idea. And it might be prudent to get some manscaping going.
Just in case.
We disappear into our respective bedrooms, reconvening downstairs a half hour later, where I grab some beers while Will puts on a movie from the Timeline franchise.
“Yo, did you see there’s a new one coming out next year?” he calls toward the kitchen.
“What? No way.” I return with two tall cans of IPA, handing him one.
“Literally just saw it on my feed.” He holds up his phone as proof.
“Is Lykander coming back?” I demand.
Bobby Lykander is the actor who’s starred in all four of the Timeline movies, but the last one ended in his tragic death. At the hand of his younger self. Fucking devastating.