Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 125866 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125866 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
I had such mixed feelings when it came to her. I loved her, loved the girl she’d raised, loved the generosity she’d shown me as a shithead kid.
But I also remembered the way she’d turned her back on my parents when they needed a friend.
When they needed forgiveness.
“I’ll pay for her to fly in, if she’s willing,” I offered.
Madelyn glared at me, then cursed. “I don’t have anything to wear to a wedding, Kyle. I definitely don’t have a nice enough dress to attend a professional football player’s wedding.”
“Trust me — my friends aren’t like that. You could show up in a trash bag and they’d love you for it.”
“You calling me trash, Robbins?”
“If you’re trash, then I’m a dumpster diver.”
She paused, frowned, and then laughed so hard she bent at the waist.
I made a face and looked up to the sky, embarrassment heating my neck. I couldn’t even try to come back from that. It was a stupid and awkward comment, but it was also the kind of jokes we’d say to each other as kids.
We were weird together.
That was what I loved most about us.
“You’re really serious about this,” she mused.
I swallowed, nodding. “I am. In fact,” I said, fishing my wallet from my pocket. I plucked one of the many credit cards out, the American Express that earned me flight miles. “Here.”
She eyed the card between my fingers and then cocked a brow at me.
“Go get a dress. Get shoes, too. Get a bag, get your hair done, whatever you want.”
Madelyn tongued her cheek. “I’m not taking your fucking credit card.”
“Fine, then let me take you shopping.”
Again, she let out an incredulous laugh that told me she thought I was acting insane.
And maybe I was.
If anyone in this world could make me crazy, it was this girl.
Madelyn
I couldn’t believe I’d agreed to this.
Two days after the house showing, a stylish white woman in her late thirties with platinum blonde hair and breasts the size of balloons was guiding me around an almost-empty boutique, plucking dress after dress from each rack we passed. Her name was Larissa, and when she picked a dress, she’d hold it up against my neckline and tug the fabric over to one hip, tilting her head from side to side, and then either put the dress back on the rack…
Or hand it to Kyle.
Kyle, who seemed all too happy to follow behind, his muscular arms serving as a shopping cart.
For the most part, I ignored him — focusing on Larissa’s questions as well as forcing each new breath into my lungs. And while I couldn’t believe I’d agreed to this little shopping trip, it was the other deal I’d made with the devil that was haunting me.
In that vacant mansion on the water, I guess it had made sense. I’d been standing too close to Kyle. His cologne must have made me dizzy. That was the only explanation for why I would have ever agreed to pretend like we were dating.
I didn’t owe him a damned thing. After what he did to me, leaving me behind when he knew I was pregnant with his baby, the only thing he deserved from me was a swift kick to the balls.
But when he’d seen the bruises on my arms, he’d lost his mind.
A chill swept over me even now as I remembered the way he’d carefully held me, his eyes shielded under furrowed brows as they assessed me for damage. And then, his jaw had tightened, his resolve set.
He wanted to protect me.
And while I’d been quick to point out that I could take care of my damn self, thank you very much, I couldn’t deny that seeing that protectiveness wash over him had done something to me.
I liked the thought of someone having my back.
I loved the thought of seeing Marshall squirm when he realized he couldn’t touch me — not with a beastly NFL tight end watching his every move.
Still, there was no way I was signing onto any deal with Kyle.
At least, that’s what I thought — until he twisted the game to work in his favor. I knew if I didn’t agree to this, he’d buy the first house I showed him just to make sure I was taken care of.
That infuriated me as much as it made my heart melt like a Creamsicle on a summer day.
I let out an audible groan as my thoughts warred with themselves in that little boutique. I hadn’t felt this confused and ruled by unpredictable emotions since I was pregnant.
“Everything okay there?” Kyle asked from behind me.
“There’s not even a single thing that’s okay about this.”
He chuckled. “Oh, come on. Have a little fun. You’ve got a personal stylist, a credit card without a limit, and a hunky football player carrying your shit. It could be worse.”