Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 175455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 877(@200wpm)___ 702(@250wpm)___ 585(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 175455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 877(@200wpm)___ 702(@250wpm)___ 585(@300wpm)
“Oh, that’s a good one,” she murmurs.
Without thought, I lean over to sneak a peek. It’s a shot of Carter mid-throw, and yeah, it’s a damn good one. I’m not even into athletes, really, but the way his muscular body looks in that uniform, his arm poised to throw the ball… damn.
Noticing my unsubtle spying, she turns the preview screen so I can see it better. “Not to pat myself on the back, but look at this shit.”
Cracking a smile, I tell her, “No, you’re right. You deserve a back-pat; that is some fine picture-taking, right there.”
Shaking her head as she turns the screen back and scrolls through, she says, “That is one damn fine specimen.”
“He’s pretty nice to look at,” I agree. “Not bad to talk to either, but if all else fails, at least he has his looks to fall back on.”
“And like a bazillion dollars. I think he’s gonna be okay.”
I nod my head, glancing her over. She doesn’t exactly look like his type, but then I’ve only seen two of his past lovers. “Are you friends?”
Snort-laughing, she says, “With Carter? God no, he doesn’t know I exist.” She misses a beat, then says, “What about you? How do you have the balls to show up at a football game? I mean, damn, kudos on your enormous lady balls, but how?”
I sort of thought I was flying under the radar tonight, so I’m surprised and a little unsure how to proceed. There’s no hostility in her tone, though, so I open my mouth to answer.
Before I have a chance, Carter comes running over, a shit-eating grin on his face. He’s sweaty and happy, and he doesn’t hesitate to grab me around the waist and pull me right up against him in all his gear.
“You see that?” he asks. “I told you I made better passes. A 71-yard touchdown pass to win the game? Not too shabby, right?”
His enthusiasm is catching and I can’t help grinning up at him. “You might as well be speaking in Latin, but I’m glad you won.”
Carter shakes his head, dark eyes sparkling with amusement. He leans down to give me a kiss, then says, “I need to teach you about football.”
“My education on that particular subject is clearly lacking,” I admit.
His hand comes up to tenderly caress my face and he kisses me again. “I’ve gotta head back to the locker room, but we’ll be out as soon as we can. Is it cool with you if Erika tags along tonight? I’ll tell her no if you don’t want her to.”
Ugh, Erika. I’ll feel mean saying she can’t come though, so I offer back, “It’s up to you.”
“That’s a no,” he interprets, nodding. “All right, no problem.” He kisses me again, then releases me before I can respond and jogs back out on the field where his teammates are still celebrating.
I look over where the cheerleaders are gathered and see Erika eyeing me up. Resisting the urge to glare back, I turn my attention back to Kasey, realizing Carter did just act like he couldn’t even see her. I don’t know why I’m surprised. Carter is well-known, but not too long ago, I was one of those dust specks he couldn’t even see.
Kasey is staring at me. “How did that happen?”
“Long story,” I offer.
Her eyebrows rise, then fall, then she shakes her head. “Well, be careful. Erika has been known to play dirty. Last year she slashed some girl’s tires for daring show up to a game and steal Carter’s attention, and I did an expose on the actual effects of sugar in a gas tank after she caramelized the art teacher’s pistons like she was making a nice car part crème brulèe. Of course I had to pretend I didn’t know it was her or risk inciting her wrath myself, but she treats bitchiness like a competition and she aims to win it.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” I murmur. “I’m not afraid of Erika.”
“You probably should be. She’s fucking crazy.”
Cocking my head to the side, I ask, “Why don’t I know you?”
Blushing and cracking a wry smile, she says, “We clearly don’t run in the same circles. I’ve been photographing these games for two years, and if pressed, I doubt anyone on the team could come up with my name.”
Unfortunately, that sounds about right. Rolling my eyes, I tell her, “They can be really oblivious, can’t they?”
She nods, but her gaze isn’t trained on me, it’s focused behind me with a hint of concern glistening in her eyes. I turn my head to see where she’s looking, and see something out of a nightmare—Jake and Erika approaching, side by side.
“Ugh, really?” I mutter.
Erika looks smug. That can’t be good. She smirks at me as she comes to a stop. “Hey, buddy.”
“What’s up, pal?” I offer back.