O Line (The New York Nighthawks #3) Read Online Fiona Davenport

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Insta-Love, Romance, Sports, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: The New York Nighthawks Series by Fiona Davenport
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Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28024 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
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Droplets leaked from the corner of her eyes, and I cringed as I used my thumbs to wipe them away. “Don’t do that shit, baby. It kills me when you cry.”

Wrenley laughed and sniffed while beaming at me, like my own personal sun.

“We may not have stood in front of an officiant to say our vows yet, but I have in my heart. I will trust you, stand behind you, encourage you, and love you for eternity. I’ll be your biggest cheerleader.”

“If you don’t want me to cry, don’t say stuff like that,” she wailed right before she burst into tears.

Panicked, I put my arms around her and held her close while I tried to figure out how to make it end. Then I had an epiphany.

“Why was the tiny ghost asked to join the football team?”

Wrenley had been sobbing into my chest, but at my question, she raised her head to stare at me in shock. “Um…why?”

“Because they needed a little team spirit.”

Once she stopped laughing hysterically, I released her and gave her a pat on the ass. “Go team!”

13

Wrenley

Sunlight started to stream through the blinds, and my eyes slowly blinked open. I hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep the night before, but the orgasms more than made up for it. Happily engaged to the man of my dreams with a modeling career that was taking off, I felt as though I was on top of the world. Unfortunately, the feeling didn’t last long.

As soon as I rolled over, my stomach churned. Saliva filled my mouth, and I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. But it wasn’t phlegm…and it didn’t go back down.

Flinging Jordan’s arm off my waist, I raced into the bathroom. As I dropped to my knees, I flipped the toilet seat open just in time to puke into the porcelain bowl. Over and over again.

At some point while I was retching, Jordan hurried into the room and placed a cold washcloth against the back of my neck while he gathered my hair in his other hand. He murmured his sympathies throughout it all, never leaving my side. When my stomach was empty and the dry heaving finally ended, he helped me to my feet and over to the counter.

He handed me a toothbrush, and my nose scrunched as I shook my head. “I don’t think I’m up for sticking anything into my mouth right now. After all that, I’m afraid I’ll start puking again.”

“Good point.” He rinsed the paste off the brush and reached for the mouthwash to pour me some instead. “Hopefully, this stage won’t last too long.”

Feeling as though my insides had wrung themselves out, my brain was too sluggish to follow. “What stage?”

“I think you’re already pregnant, baby.” He splayed his palm over my belly. “Morning sickness is a classic symptom.”

I was about to tell him that couldn’t be possible—not even with all the unprotected sex we’d been having—when I counted backward to when my last period started and realized that it had been longer than I thought. “Oh, wow. You might be right.”

The smile he beamed at me was huge…and full of satisfaction. “You should take a test to confirm.”

“Yeah,” I sighed, poking a finger against his chest. “But you’re going to have to run to the store to get it. I’m not up to doing anything except for crawling back into bed.”

He crouched down and pulled a pink box out from under the sink. My eyes widened when I saw the label. “You must not have been kidding even a little bit when you said you were trying to get me pregnant if you already stocked up on pregnancy tests.”

“What can I say?” He shrugged before ripping open the box. “I didn’t get to be the highest paid left tackle in the league without learning the importance of being prepared.”

“I’m not going to complain.” I reached for the test. “Not when I’m the one benefitting from your readiness.”

I nudged him out of the bathroom—ignoring his adorable pout because I was not about to pee on a stick in front of him—before double-checking the directions. Once I was done, I set the test on the counter while I washed my hands. As soon as he heard the water faucet turn on, Jordan pushed the door open to join me again.

Wrapping his arms around me from behind, he propped his chin on the top of my head while we waited for the results to appear in the little window on the stick. It felt as though those three minutes took forever before two pink lines appeared.

“Oh, wow. I really am pregnant.”

“Hell yeah, you are.” Although I’d already suspected what the test was going to say, I was a little shocked. Jordan didn’t seem to have that problem as he swept me off my feet to carry me back to bed. Once he got me settled, he asked, “Can I get you anything?”



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