Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 111685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
He knew everything.
Everyone would also know everything.
It was all out, no reason for secrets. I had nothing else to hide and Stone stayed. He remained next to me until he had to leave for his game.
I was giving in. It was Stone. It was all Stone. I was in love with him. I refrained from spilling those words last night, but it’d been so hard. I had to bite down on my lips. I drew blood.
But tonight, those words would come out because I knew what was going to happen.
Stone was coming for me.
I had a bag packed. I wasn’t going to make him stay here. I didn’t want to stay here myself, not tonight. Tonight was special. Tonight was different. We’d go to his house and we’d make love. I would take care of my man, but those words, they’d come out.
I would have to see what his reaction would be then, but I just knew that I was done hiding. I couldn’t anymore.
All the shit was coming out tonight. Let’s hope I didn’t have another loss tomorrow to get over, because I didn’t think I could. Not this time. There was no walking away, or moving on, or just dealing. I’d be shattered forever. The question was if I was lining up my own undoing or not.
Chapter Forty-Two
DUSTY GIRL
I was curled up on the couch, in the corner, hugging a pillow, when Wyatt switched the television to watch the extras on the NFL channel. He turned it to the press conference section, and after a bit, the Kings’ head coach, Stone, and Colby walked in, then sat behind a table.
The first question was to the coach. How’d he feel the team did, considering they blew the other team away with a thirty-eight to seven score.
Second question was to Colby: What did he do to prepare for tonight’s game?
The next was to Stone, a similar question, and they each answered a few more before it happened.
They all seemed at ease. Stone kept his head down, leaning forward. Colby was the opposite, head up but leaning back. The coach was forward and head up. He was meeting the questions head on, and then the last question.
“Stone, going forward into the next week and preparing for the Horns, do you think you’ll be distracted with the reports of your girlfriend’s stalker? And how is she doing?”
Stone’s head whipped up, and he was pissed.
Not pissed. Furious. Livid.
His jaw clenched. Fire blazed from his eyes, and he started to shove up, but his coach put a restraining hand on his shoulder.
“Damn,” from Wyatt.
“Oh, shit,” from Dent.
“Fuck.”
The last was from Nacho. Me… I couldn’t breathe.
Stone looked ready to leap over the table and tear the guy apart.
Colby jerked forward in his seat, his eyes immediately going to Stone.
But the coach acted first. He stood up, clearing his throat. “I think we’re done for the day. Thank you, folks.”
He lifted his hand and Stone shoved up, his hands in fists. He didn’t wait for Colby to lead the way out, he whipped around him and was gone within a second. Colby paused before following, and the coach just lowered his head, his hand finding his hip, a clipboard in hand as he trailed at a more sedate pace.
“Shit.”
Nicole’s the one who swore softly beside me. She patted my leg. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not a mainstream press conference. Most of that stuff will get printed only in sports blogs.”
That was from Dent. He was trying to reassure me, but it didn’t matter. It was out. I hadn’t thought I’d be brought up, but there was always one person, one article that wanted to be more scandalous than the others, and the headline with Stone’s name and stalker would get clicks. I would’ve clicked on it myself, but this was me. This was my life.
I had to deal.
The biggest damage had already been done, and that guy was dead.
I could handle whatever else came out.
I was in my room, on my bed, dressed and just waiting, when my door opened. It was the one to the rest of the house. Stone came in, shutting the door behind him. He didn’t turn the lights on, but I heard him turn the lock before he stopped to take me in.
It was a few hours later. His hair was wet. He’d recently showered. No sweatshirt this time, just a Kings shirt and a hat pulled low. I loved that look on him. Loved how it highlighted his square jaw, how when he clenched it, he made me salivate, my body starting to ache.
I almost sighed. “I wanted to hate you.”
The air around him had been restless, edgy. Like he wanted to fight, but had no target to take it out on. It grew calmer, more pensive at my statement. He didn’t come over. I wanted him to come over, but he sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward. Elbows on his knees, but his head was turned to me. He was watching me.