Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 124451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 498(@250wpm)___ 415(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 498(@250wpm)___ 415(@300wpm)
“Then we’ll teach you,” I insist. “My mom has been getting her business degree and has just started her own bakery. I’m sure she’d be happy to sit down with you and teach you everything you need to know, and whatever we don’t understand, we’ll figure out along the way.”
“You’re really sure about this?”
“Positive,” I tell her. “I want you on board with this. It wouldn’t feel right without you.”
Tears gather in her eyes, and she squeezes my hand. “Then yes,” she says as Brielle loops her arm around mine, a beaming smile on her face. “I’d love to.”
BRIELLE
FOUR YEARS LATER
The buzzer sounds throughout the stadium, signaling half time of the best football game I’ve ever seen.
Tanner has been killing it. It’s his second year leading his team as captain and there’s a damn good reason why. He’s the best. There’s no question about it. He’s done four years of college football and every game, he just gets better. Hell, the whole world knows it, which is why he’s had every professional team in the country treating him like a king, wining and dining him and showering him with lavish gifts, desperate to get him to sign on the dotted line.
Tonight is their championship game, and there’s no doubt in my mind he’ll be coming home with that trophy, and a shitload more where those scouts are concerned.
Ilaria nudges me before nodding toward the cheerleaders as they race out onto the field, preparing for their halftime routine. “Do you think those uniforms get caught up their asses?”
“Don’t ask me,” I scoff. “Ask Chanel. She was a cheerleader for four years.”
Ilaria rolls her eyes as she cradles her pregnant belly. “I tried to ask her, but she’s too busy jerking off Logan beneath his jacket and acting as though it isn’t the most obvious thing in the world.”
“What?” I laugh, having to lean right around her big belly to see, certain if I accidentally touch it she might pop and make Damien a daddy a few weeks too early. “Really, Chanel?” I say with a gag, getting an eyeful of her hand bobbing up and down beneath Logan’s jacket. “If you’re going to do it, at least get on your knees for him.”
“Who’s getting on their knees?” Zoe asks from down the other end of our row, having to lean past the newlyweds, Jax and Ari, and announcing it to the whole freaking stadium.
I can all but see the ridiculous comment forming in Riley’s head when booming music cuts across the field. My gaze shifts down to the field to see the cheerleaders shaking their asses, but as I look a little closer, I realize they’re not alone.
“Oh no,” I laugh, watching Tanner twerking on the field. “What the hell is he doing?”
Cameras zoom in on him and within seconds, Tanner’s ass is plastered over the jumbotron. The boys howl with laughter as the rest of the stadium cheers on their favorite player. I have no doubt this is going to make national headlines, just like everything else he does.
He gets halfway through the routine, hitting every single step perfectly, and just when I start getting suspicious of how well he knows the dance, the jumbotron goes to a split screen, showing my face plastered right next to Tanner’s.
My eyes bug out of my head as the crowd roars, clearly figuring out the same thing I’ve just worked out. “Oh, shit,” I gasp, flying to my feet and making a break for it, cutting in front of all our friends while Hudson and Addison smirk as though they knew this shit was about to go down. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.”
What the hell is he thinking? I’m going to kill him.
“Uh-oh,” a voice says over the speakers as I hit the stairs, racing up toward the exit. “We’ve got ourselves a runner.”
Oh, God. How embarrassing.
I glance over my shoulder at the screen to find Tanner staring up at me, a wicked smirk across his stupid face. The idiot is really enjoying this.
My head whips back, and just as I lift my gaze to make sure I don’t trip and fall, I come to a startling halt, finding Riley blocking my way with his hands braced on his hips and a stupid smirk on his face. “How the fuck did you—”
“Sorry, shortstack,” he says, cutting me off, his arms snapping out and grabbing me around the waist. He throws me over his shoulder before strutting down the stairs, the whole stadium applauding his efforts as humiliation claims me.
“Put me down right now, you big bastard,” I say, drumming my fists against his back, even considering going as far as shoving my hands down his pants and giving him an ultimate wedgie.
He gets right to the edge of the grandstand and without an exit right here, he has no choice but to toss me over the edge, right into the arms of one of Tanner’s teammates. I’m shuffled around and shoved over someone else’s shoulder and marched right out into the middle of the field before being deposited right in front of Tanner.