Crossland (Billionaire’s Game #4) Read Online Samantha Whiskey

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Chick Lit, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Billionaire's Game Series by Samantha Whiskey
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Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
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A foreign emotion sliced through me, an odd instinct that had me passing my drink to Ethan without looking back and heading straight for her.

I slid my hand along the small of her back, not so casually tucking her into my side as I locked eyes with the rookie.

“There you are,” I said, finally looking down at Aspen.

“Here I am,” she said in an equally sugary voice as she patted my chest. “I didn't know if you were done with groomsmen duties yet,” she said, and then motioned to the rookie. “Jake was just explaining the difference between a running back and a tight end to me.”

“It's never too late to learn,” Jake said, raising his drink toward her before taking a sip. Then he turned to me, reaching out a free hand. “You must be the boyfriend she was talking so much about. Crossland? You’re friends with Weston right?”

I shook his hand firmly before releasing it. “That's me.”

“Nice,” he said. “I love hockey. Your team isn't doing half bad, but I usually root for the underdogs, which doesn’t include yours or Asher’s team, huh?”

“No, I can't say that we are,” I said. “If you're looking for underdogs, Bangor is shaping up to be the absolute worst team in the league.” I brought up Doyle's team and sighed, actually feeling sorry for the players who had such a prick for an owner.

The rookie laughed and shook his head. “I don't root for that big of an underdog,” he said. “But I wouldn't mind seeing Detroit rise in ranks a little bit before the end of the season.”

I nodded, respect overtaking whatever instinct had propelled me to stomp over here in the first place.

Was it jealousy?

That was a rare, unfamiliar feeling for me. And yet, I still had a possessive hand placed around Aspen’s hip. How could I be jealous of something that wasn't even real?

I shifted my stance, relaxing a little bit and convincing myself that I was only interested in protecting the image that we were trying to portray to the public, especially to my friends.

That's all.

My friends would expect me to come over here and make sure the rookie knew who Aspen belonged to. Because that's what you did in a real relationship. I’d certainly seen Asher, Wes, and Ethan do their fair share of growling when the situation arose.

I looked down at Aspen, studying the features on her face as I tried to navigate these new emotions.

“You hungry?” I asked, unable to come to a firm conclusion.

“Always,” she said, grinning up at me before she offered that same smile to the rookie. “It was great chatting with you,” she said. “I’m definitely going to watch the Raptors now and cheer for you.”

“Thanks,” he said nodding to us both. “You'll be able to see me play whenever the first string needs a break.”

I nodded to the guy, then gently guided Aspen away and toward one of the dessert tables across the room.

“Making friends?” I asked after she’d loaded up her plate with chocolate-covered strawberries, an array of delicate cookies dipped in caramel, and a few truffles.

“Yeah,” she said as we settled into a little free space near the tables. “Am I not supposed to?” she asked, her eyes flickering over me. She picked up a strawberry and wrapped her lips around the tip before sinking her teeth into it.

Jesus, I don't know if I'd ever noticed how full and luscious her lips were until I watched her do that. And it made heat streak through my blood, every instinct roaring to slowly back her into the corner and see just how much she tasted like strawberries.

I took a deep breath, cooling off the instinct and reminding myself that she was not a date.

She was an investment.

“Of course, you can make friends,” I said, doing my best to school my features in a not-bothered-at-all look. “He just looked a little more interested in you than that.”

“You're not jealous, are you?” she teased, her eyes lighting up. “We were just talking. He wasn't interested⁠—”

“Maybe from your perspective,” I said. “But I could read the vibes pretty well.”

She chuckled softly before taking another bite. “One of the first things he asked was who I’d come with, and I immediately told him it was you. I promise, there was nothing to be jealous over.”

“I wasn't jealous,” I said a little too quickly. “Besides, I'd have nothing to be jealous over, because this isn't real,” I said the words quick and quietly so only she could hear. But for some reason, I immediately regretted it. It could’ve been because of the slight drop in Aspen’s shoulders or the flicker of hurt in her eyes.

But that couldn't be right, could it?

She knew this wasn't real, and I knew this wasn't real, so why did it feel like we were having a real disagreement?



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