Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Even with his mouth right by my ear, I had to make Jaxson repeat himself at least twice when he tried to keep our conversation going. He’d been telling me ridiculous stories for the past hour, mostly about the shenanigans he and Vince got into during the preseason.
At about half-past midnight, I excused myself to the restroom, laughing at my reflection when a yawn stretched my mouth wide. I was ready to call it a night.
I searched the packed club for Vince. I didn’t know why, really, but I felt like I should tell him I was heading out. It wasn’t like I’d post any of the content that would be captured after this point, anyway, and the team was getting a little too rowdy for my tastes.
I smiled a little as I recalled how carefree he’d seemed all night. I sat next to him at the rookie dinner, our knees brushing under the table, my heart pounding in my chest every time I glanced at where his massive hands held his cocktail. I couldn’t look at those hands without remembering what they did to me, and that was a very bad image to conjure up in a fancy restaurant — especially when I was wearing a dress with only a thong on underneath it.
When we’d arrived at the club in a collection of limousines, I’d thoroughly enjoyed watching him get dragged on stage to be hazed.
I loved that he was laughing, that he was having fun.
I also loved that every time I looked at him across that club, he was looking at me, too.
I internally scolded myself as my neck heated with that thought.
His cut was healing already, the bandages removed, but the bruising, tender flesh reminded me of our night together in Atlanta. It had felt a little too intimate, him opening up to me the way he had. I was thankful Reya had texted me and interrupted us before I could lose myself too much.
It was easy to do with Vince, which was a very big problem.
The crowd had a heartbeat now, and I weaved my way through it, hunting for Vince to say goodnight. I knew he was far from turning in. It was his rookie party, after all.
I thought of what he told me about pottery that first week I was on assignment, how it helped him release stress, helped him re-center. I also noted that he hadn’t been able to carve out enough time to sit at that wheel since, and I knew it had to be wearing on him.
I was glad he was cutting loose tonight. He needed it.
I asked a few teammates if they’d seen him, feeling a bit helpless when none of them could point me in his direction. I was pulling out my phone to just text him that I was heading out when I finally spotted him.
My heart split in two when I did.
It wasn’t fair, the way my breath caught at the sight of him in a VIP booth with a woman straddling his lap. It wasn’t fair how my chest squeezed the life out of my lungs when I catalogued the scene: his hands on her ass, her hips grinding against him, his panty-melting smirk, her hands running the length of his chest as she rode him to the beat.
They were both fully clothed, but it didn’t matter. I felt like I’d just walked in on him with his cock in her mouth.
She was stunning — deep brown skin, a long, midnight braid falling down her slender back. She moved on him so seductively it was like the music lived within her, and Vince let his eyes crawl over her body as she did.
He didn’t look like himself.
I registered it even as bile rose in my throat. Something was off. He seemed pissed, almost… distant, not engaged, numb.
When his eyes slowly swept up to mine, they stuck, his jaw hardening.
Like he wanted me to see.
My nostrils flared, but I turned on my heel before my eyes could water, pushing through the crowd toward the door. I gasped on the first sip of clean oxygen on the outside, and then I climbed into one of the limousines, promising the driver none of the other players were ready to leave yet, and to please just take me back and then he could return.
Blessedly, he listened, and he didn’t ask a single question as I stewed in his back seat.
I shook my head over and over, laughing and then scoffing and then growling in frustration. I shouldn’t have cared. I shouldn’t have felt sick at the sight of him with someone else. This was what I wanted.
One time, and one time only.
Back to professionals.
And that meant I had no fucking right to be upset that he had another girl in his lap.