Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“I haven’t even gone yet.”
“Go. Now,” I say, sweeping out a hand to give Ryker the floor.
He doesn’t give in to my demand right away. He takes a deep breath, then, with a smirk, he declares, “Miss Inquisitive.”
Damn. That’s good. It’s parallel with my names for them. With a huff, I narrow my eyes, a little annoyed he nailed it.
Ryker smirks. “That’s what I thought.”
“What’s what you thought?”
“You like it,” he says, and he’s cocky too.
Chase flashes me a crooked grin. “Yeah, I think you do,” he says, then steps a little closer, and takes his time saying in that smooth, deep voice, “Miss Inquisitive…” After a deliberate pause, he adds, his tone even swoonier, “The Book Babe.”
I fight off a tremble. I feel almost surrounded by them.
Ryker lifts a brow. He noticed the shiver. Dammit. He turns to Chase. “A combo. Looks like we have a winner.”
“And it fits,” Chase says.
The name is bookish and kind of sexy, and I’m hoping that means he thinks I am sexy.
But wait. Which…he do I hope thinks I’m hot?
The trouble is I don’t know. Is it both? But I didn’t swipe those tickets hoping a couple of pro athletes would fight over me. And yet, here I am, enjoying the spotlight. Maybe even enjoying the twin focus on me. I can’t blame the one glass of wine. Maybe I just like their attention after Jasper’s attention strayed.
That has to be it.
That’s all. No big deal. This is normal post-breakup stuff. I’m allowed to enjoy it, I’m sure.
I break from my thoughts as Chase gestures to the chalkboard. “Now, tell us which game you want to play first. As long as it’s Ping-Pong.”
Hmm. This is a tougher choice than I’d expect. Especially since Ryker clears his throat and says, “It’s ladies choice. You said you might like both. You get to pick,” he says, showing off that he remembers what I said earlier.
I tap my chin, considering Ping-Pong, Chase’s favorite, and pool, Ryker’s choice. Whichever one I pick will send a signal. Like I’m picking one guy over the other when both are helping me immensely. Before I can decide, Chase leans an elbow on the counter and meets my gaze. “Actually, I’m wrong. Pool is better for our plan.”
That’s not at all what I’d thought he’d say. “Why?”
“We want to make that asshole suffer, right? You said we’re his favorite players. So let’s make him really fucking jealous. Because pool is sexier,” he says, and his smile is gone. It’s replaced by a dark stare with those deep brown eyes that feel like they’re…undressing me.
I shiver, enjoying the eye fucking. I even like the charm. I won’t be fooled by it, but oh boy, do I ever like it, especially when he adds, “You said you wanted to learn how to play. We’ll teach you.”
I can picture the scene. Me stretching out against the pool table. Chase behind me, showing me how to line up a shot. Ryker coming around to the other side of me, adjusting my hips just so.
My chest flutters at the images racing through my brain. Images that are sexier than I’d expected them to be. Naughtier. Images of two men touching me at the same time.
The image makes no sense though. Who’d take the picture if they were both showing me how to play?
No idea, but maybe I don’t care about the picture at all. I want to play pool with these two hockey hotties instead.
I don’t let on though. They don’t need to know that yet. “Let’s rack ’em up,” I say.
Ryker lifts his beer bottle and knocks some back, then sets it on a ledge next to the pool table.
With a serious stare, he regards the array of pool balls on green felt—most are mine—then tugs on his tie a little more.
Chase doesn’t wear a tie.
I can’t decide which look I like better—tie or no tie. “All right, you’re gonna want to hit the purple ball,” Ryker says decisively.
“Easy enough,” I say dryly, because of course it’s not. I haven’t played much but I know pool is ridiculously hard. I’m determined to knock at least one ball in not by accident.
Which means I need a little help.
“You can do it,” Chase says brightly, then comes around the table, moving next to me, his pool cue in one hand. “Let me show you.” He nods across the table to his rival.
“Ryker, you want to take pics for her socials?”
Ryker nods and tilts his phone in the air. “On it.”
“Then it’s showtime.” Setting down the stick, Chase unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt, taking his time rolling up his right sleeve, and revealing his strong forearm.
Then the other.
Mmm.
Wait, did I just purr?
I think I did.
Evidently, I’m learning all sorts of things about myself tonight. Namely, that I like thighs and forearms, as well as grumps and cocky charmers.