Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
I chuckled a little. He was joking, but I knew that humor covered a serious truth. “Bold of you to think you’d have beaten me.”
“Oh reeeeally.” His fingers dug into my aching muscles, smoothing away tension, and my eyes slid shut. “You’re saying that if I’d competed in Box Day, you’d have competed too?”
“Obviously. And won or died trying. But it’s always been that way with us, hasn’t it?” That was a truth, too, and if I’d been more awake, I’d have shut myself up, but I was so tired and comfortable I kept talking. “Someone recently told me that you and I have always been tight, even if we weren’t friends, and I think maybe that’s right. We were like… whajamacallit? Magnets.” I yawned. “Action and reaction.”
“That’s chemistry, baby. Magnets are about attraction and repulsion.”
I laughed. “There you go. We’ve always had that, too, haven’t we?”
“We have.” JT’s fingers tightened on my skin. “I sometimes wonder if the path I’m on is the one I’d have taken if I’d been left to my own devices.”
My eyes opened in surprise. JT, the smart and social, energetic and focused heir to the Wellbridge throne, with his killer education and contacts and hotshot career, was questioning his path?
“What else do you think you might have done? It’s not too late. You could still become a male model or porn star. You’d be great at it.”
His dancing eyes were framed with wet, spiky lashes. “Good to know. I’ll pencil that in as a backup plan.”
I ran a hand up his chest. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to joke about it. I really do want to know what your dream job would be if you weren’t at Fortress.”
JT turned off the water and moved me aside to grab a towel from the nearby hook. “I dunno. I wanted to play baseball, I guess. But you knew that.”
That didn’t make any sense. I knew he loved playing, but he hadn’t pursued it seriously at all. “But you quit the team after sophomore year of high school.”
“Sure.” He began drying me with the towel. “Because my mother said I needed volunteer hours for my college applications and a trip abroad every spring break. You can’t play baseball if you’re out of the country during spring break.”
“Your mother. Honestly.” There had never been any love lost between me and Patricia Wellbridge, but hearing this story made me imagine committing an act of violence on the woman. “Mpfh.”
JT laughed softly while he moved the towel up to my hair. It felt good to be cared for this way. “I appreciate the homicidal expression on your face, Firecracker, but my mother’s not that bad. She wants me to be happy…” He gave me a half-smile. “She just thinks she knows what will make me happy better than I do.” He smoothed the towel over my forehead and kissed each of my eyebrows in turn. “Since she was the one who gave Conrad the idea of sending me to Honeybridge this summer, though, I suppose she’s right occasionally.”
He pressed a kiss to my lips, and I sighed dreamily. Okay, fine. For bringing JT home, I’d give Patricia a mother point or two. Maybe two and a half. But… “I’m not okay with her canceling your baseball dream.”
“She didn’t, baby. I was the one who made the final decision. I read about a first-round draft pick for the Astros who experienced a career-ending injury in his second major league game and ended up working for his cousin’s landscaping business cutting grass.” JT shrugged. “That was all it took for me to nope out of playing professionally. I knew I never wanted to rely on my parents or my trust fund for money. And I didn’t want to be too far away from them either.”
“Yeah, right. You wanted to stick close, but you’ve barely been home these last several years?” I took the towel from him and used it to dry his own body. “Why?”
JT’s eyes bored into mine, but he kept his mouth shut. It took me a while to realize what he wasn’t saying. “Because of me?” I gasped. “Because of that night after Grandpa Horace died?”
He sighed and grabbed the towel from me to finish drying himself. “Partly, yeah. To get away from my mother’s meddling, also, but… Yes, a lot of it was because of that night.” He gripped the towel tightly, and his eyes met mine. “I fucked up, and I didn’t know how to fix it, so I just… let it go. I told myself it was better if I stayed away. It was selfish, and I’m sorry.”
I shook my head and lifted a hand to his mouth to shush him. “You’ve already tried apologizing for that, remember? And I didn’t accept. No sorries,” I quoted his words from earlier. I cleared my throat. “Now, tell me more about baseball. Because you in those pants could be a—”