Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 107077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
“What about your agent? Or your family?” she whispers in a last-ditch effort to sway me. “Won’t they be upset?”
To say that Greg Abbot, my sports agent, will be displeased with the news is a major understatement.
But…you know what?
Tough shit.
And my family?
They don’t give a damn. Other than my brother, no one else is going to show up for the game. Mom and Dad are still in the Netherlands and won’t be flying home until graduation in May. Then, they’ll be off again.
“Don’t worry, everyone will be cool with it.”
She scrapes her teeth across her lower lip. “Please, Asher. You’re making too big of a deal about this.”
My arms drop to my sides as I lean forward. “And you’re not making a big enough deal out of it.”
A heavy silence falls over us as we continue to stare.
“Hey, this place is packed. Glad you found a table.”
I rip my gaze away from her, only to find Crosby standing next to us with a loaded-down tray. Normally, I’m happy to see my friends. Especially since they’ve all gotten wifed up and aren’t around as much as they used to be.
But at the moment?
I’d much rather be alone with Lola.
Crosby drops down beside me and the rest follow suit. Brooke, Carson, Elle, Sasha, and Easton fill the empty chairs at the long stretch of table. The quiet is broken by boisterous chatter and laughter. If anyone notices the thick tension hanging in the air, they don’t comment on it. Lola’s brow furrows as she stares at her barely touched chicken salad.
Demi, Rowan, Brayden, and Sydney pull chairs up to the already crowded table, squeezing in beside us. Even though I would have rather finished our conversation, that’s no longer an option. Not with all these people surrounding us. It’s probably for the best if we table this discussion for the time being. Although, I’m not sure what good it will do. There’s no way I’ll change her mind about the surgery, just like she isn’t going to change mine about the game.
The only thing left to do is talk to Coach.
And hope he understands.
34
LOLA
A sigh falls from my lips as I hold his blue gaze in the darkness. There’s just enough silvery moonlight slanting in through the unadorned window for me to see the intensity that fills his expression.
Has anyone ever looked at me like this?
Like he can see straight down to my soul?
Asher is the only man who has ever stared at me with so much pent-up emotion or made me feel like I’ve been shoved off a cliff and am in free fall. Whatever this is between us, I never saw it coming.
My mind tumbles back to the day he walked into Taco Loco with a blonde tucked under each arm and a handful of teammates like he owned the joint. His easy demeanor—as if he were used to taking his fame, the female fan club clinging to him, and good looks in stride. Everything about the guy had rankled me. The strange urge to knock him down a peg or two had thrummed through my veins until the challenge was impossible to ignore.
That one run-in was all it took for something unexpected to snap and sizzle in the air between us. It was easy enough to tamp down until we started spending time together. That’s when everything changed, and I got to know him on a deeper, more personal level. It didn’t take long for all my preconceived notions to fly out the window as we built a friendship.
I’m forced from those thoughts when his thick length slides inside my body. Unlike the previous times we’ve had sex, there’s a tenderness to his movements. As if he’s making a concerted effort to slow everything down and take care with me. The strange thing is that it’s exactly what I need. It’s baffling how this man can understand what I crave on a deep level when I don’t have a firm grasp on it myself.
But he does.
And he gives it to me every single time.
With every thrust of his body, mine dances closer to the precipice. Not once does he increase the tempo or lose control. Each movement is measured and precise, almost as if it were designed to draw out as much pleasure as possible until I beg him to make me come.
His gaze stays locked on mine as a muscle tics in his shadowed jaw.
Just when I can’t take another moment of this sweet torture, he growls, “I want you to come now.”
The command sends me careening over the edge and into oblivion. But I’m not alone in that. Asher is right there beside me. The low chanting of my name only catapults me further into the stratosphere.
As I float back to earth, he buries his face against the hollow of my neck. His warm breath feathers over my delicate flesh as I pull him closer, never wanting to let go.