Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Coen laughs and checks his watch. Boone catches the move and shakes his head. “No way, asshole. You’re staying out tonight since your honey isn’t here.”
“I’m beat, man,” Coen says, but I can tell that’s not why he wants to go. This isn’t his scene anymore.
Boone’s head swings my way. “It’s you and me, man.” He looks over his shoulder at two women a couple tables over. They stare back at him with smiles of invitation. His eyes come back to me. “We’ll both score tonight.”
I clap Boone on the shoulder. “Sorry, man. I’m out too, but I think you can handle both those ladies on your own. Double the fun.”
“You guys suck,” Boone mutters, but then turns to the waitress, who has patiently waited for us to decide what to do. He jerks his head toward the women. “I’ll take another beer and buy them a round.”
We all rise from our stools and pull money out, including a generous tip for the waitress. We leave Boone behind and make the short walk back to the arena and the players’ parking lot.
“Glad you came out with us,” Stone says as he pulls his keys from his pocket.
“Only three more days until my boys come home, so don’t count on it being a frequent thing.”
“Away games,” Coen says with a grin. “You can come out and play during away games.”
“That I can do,” I say, especially since it appears I’m not going to be fucking Brienne anymore. The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. “See you guys tomorrow.”
I head toward the Tahoe SUV I purchased last week. I’d brought the bike down to Pittsburgh when I moved here and left another Tahoe back home for Kiera. The boys are all still in car seats, and the Tahoe is safer than her car.
After settling behind the wheel, I inhale the fragrance of new leather and release my breath slowly.
I don’t want to go home.
I’m not ready to sleep.
But more important than the things I don’t want is the one thing I want very much right now.
Resolving myself, I put the Tahoe in drive and head to Brienne’s house.
CHAPTER 13
Drake
It’s nearly twelve thirty in the morning when I pull into Brienne’s driveway. It’s fifty-fifty whether she’ll be awake. I know the woman operates on barely five hours of sleep a night—after seven days in bed together, you learn a few things.
I might know her sleep schedule, but I don’t know if she’s even home. She might be out with other people following the game, or she could be at another man’s house.
Hell, there could be another man in her house with her right now. If that’s the case, things are about to get really awkward.
As I stop my Tahoe and cut the engine, the one thing that gives me hope that she is indeed awake and not with another man is that I see the lights on in her home office. It’s situated in the L-crook of the west side of the house, although from this angle, I cannot see the desk where she’d be sitting.
Chances are slim, but I suppose she could be in there with another man. The thought makes me want to punch something, especially since I made her play with herself sitting in that big leather executive chair. I feel possessive of that area, having claimed it as my own, although I don’t know if I’m talking about the actual office or Brienne’s body.
Maybe both.
It’s all fucked up in my head.
I exit my vehicle, walk to the double arched doors, and press the doorbell. That gong-like sound reverberates through the house, and I wait patiently because her office isn’t just a few feet away. I hear nothing from inside, but I wouldn’t really as the doors are solid wood and thick as hell.
The door unlatches and swings open, revealing Brienne standing there. I’m actually shocked to see her wearing a pair of loose, drawstring pajama bottoms and a faded concert T-shirt.
I’ve only ever seen Brienne in her executive-chic wardrobe or when she’s naked in bed with me. It’s not that I didn’t think she wore pajamas. Truly, I never thought about it until this second, but I assumed a billionaire would wear silk and designer labels to bed, not a T-shirt that’s clearly seen its share of wash cycles.
I looked pointedly at her chest. “Shinedown?”
Her expression and tone are flat. “My favorite band. What are you doing here?”
I offer a careless shrug, tucking my hands casually into my pockets. “You didn’t seem the type who would ghost me.”
“Ghost you?” she asks with a frown.
“You didn’t text me today. You didn’t invite me over.”
Brienne makes no move to welcome me in and crosses her arms over her chest. “You can’t ghost someone if there wasn’t an expectation of contact. We never made any promises to each other, and we never made any plans.”