Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
And pantless.
And gorgeous, and just wearing tight black boxer briefs—one holding me in his arms, and the other two surrounding us.
My eyes dart all over the place, my breath catching and my heart racing. But when I finally drag my gaze up from those muscles into the face of the stranger holding me, my jaw drops.
Not a stranger. None of them are strangers. In fact, I saw them barely two hours ago. At Winchester. At the football game. Because the three gorgeous, almost naked guys basically pinning me between them all happen to be three of the biggest, hottest, most well-known star players on the Raiders football team at Winchester.
Wait, what the fuck is going on?
“Zara?”
Anders Teller, the blond-haired, blue-eyed Greek god of a tight end, and also the guy holding me tight in his arms, stares at me, the look of shock on his face as naked as the one on mine.
He knows my name?
I mean, the three guys standing around me are basically campus royalty. Popular, gorgeous, star players on the all-star football team. And then there’s me, band nerd extraordinaire. Honor roll dork. Artsy geek. I mean I have a comic book collection, and a respectable one at that for God’s sake. And Anders Teller actually knows who the hell I am?
I blush at the thought, before I shake it away. My eyes dart around me, at the dark-haired, blue-eyed Carson Lafayette, and the absolutely huge, dark-haired, green-eyed Griffin Reeves. My mouth opens and closes, looking for words but finding nothing. My eyes slide over them, a shiver teasing through me as I drink in the three basically naked guys pressed tight around me, before suddenly, it’s like the moment breaks.
Anders blinks and quickly sets me down, and the three of them back away from me, staring at me like they can’t quite believe who they’re looking at.
“What…” he frowns, but Carson clears his throat.
“What are you doing here?”
I blink, slowly turning my gaze to him.
“I—wait, what are you doing here?” I frown, glancing past them at the pile of grass-scuffed football gear and uniforms behind them, like they also just snuck out at the very end of the football game to come here. But what the hell are three of the biggest football stars in school doing at my freaking rock band audition?
“I asked you first,” Carson tosses back, a slight grin on his perfect, chiseled face. “I mean, isn’t it past curfew?”
“Look who’s talking,” I throw right back. “And for your information, I’m here to audition for a band.”
His smile fades, and his eyes go wide as the three of them glance at each other.
“Wait, you?” Griffin growls quietly in this deep, rumbly voice.
“Uh, yeah,” I mutter, my brow furrowing. “I’m supposed to meet them here in a rehearsal space—”
I glance past them again, and past the pile of football crap to see the drum kit set up, alongside a couple of amps, a PA system, and some other live stage gear. A bass and an electric guitar sit gleaming in the low light of the space propped up against a couple of amps.
Hang on.
“Where’s the band?”
The words come out quietly, but somewhere inside, I think I already know the answer. Even if the answer is the last answer I could ever have imagined.
“Yeah, uh…” Anders frowns, raking his fingers through his hair.
“We’re the band, Zara.”
My jaw drops.
“What?”
“It’s us, Zara,” Carson growls lowly. “We’re the band, we just had no fucking idea you—”
“You’re Chasing Glory?”
Three of them glance at each other and nod, and my mind reels.
“But… but you play football.”
Anders grins and shrugs. “You noticed that, huh?”
I glare at him. “It’s a little hard to miss in a place like Winchester, don’t you think?”
He chuckles. “Well, I also play guitar.”
“And bass,” Carson tosses out.
“Drums,” Griffin rumbles.
I blink, taking this all in. The ad in my favorite off-campus coffee house for the band had a link to their website, and the music clips they had posted were really good. Good enough to make me instantly send them my online demo stuff.
The realization off what’s happened hits me. The email address was just their band name. The website just had a “coming soon” message under the “pictures of the band” section. I emailed from my private email, not my school “Z_Bateman” Winchester email.
“Well, shit,” Anders chuckles, grinning at me wolfishly as he folds those gorgeous arms over his perfect, muscled chest.
“Shit is right,” I grumble.
“Look, you auditioning or not?” Carson drawls, eying me.
“You’re…” I frown. “You’re ditching curfew right now.”
He snorts. “Yeah, pot kettle black, sweetheart.”
I bite my lip, blushing before I frown at him
“Can you play? Instruments, I mean, not just being cavemen on a football field.”
Carson rolls his eyes. “You do realize this is us interviewing you, right?”
My face turns red as I stammer and look down. “Right, sorry.”