Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
He studies Preston’s face for a second to see if he’s joking and then laughs. “Good one.” Jameson slaps Preston on the back. “You had me going, buddy. For a second there, I thought you were serious about having a friend who’s a girl.”
“I am,” Preston challenges.
“It’s not in the Parker nature,” he says under his breath, but still low enough so I can hear him.
This family is weird. Almost none of them are related by blood. All of them are good-looking. Like what the fuck? They clearly won the gene lottery. Even with a touch of gray in his hair, Jameson is one fine-ass man. A super-hot DILF. I’m surprised Preston’s mom was able just to be friends with this man without jumping him.
Jameson introduces himself to me minus the hug I got from Coach.
I wave to Jamie, who clutches his cell phone, half looking at me. He types out a quick reply, and then smiles as if he’s up to no good. “Any chance you know how to dance?”
I cock an eyebrow at him. “Huh? Are you talking to me?”
“Yeah. Who else would I be talking to?”
“I guess so. Why?”
“This girl I’m seeing, Shannon, she’s in this dance contest tonight. Two of the girls in her sorority are puking their guts out. She thinks they have food poisoning. And now they’re two girls short for tonight.”
“That sucks.”
He shrugs. “Yeah. Would you help her out?”
“I don’t know anything about dancing professionally.”
“All you have to do is shake your ass for one song. It’s for charity. All of the sorority houses are doing it to raise money for CHOP, the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia.”
“I would love to but dancing isn’t really my thing. Can’t they find someone else to do it?”
“I’ll be there,” Preston says. “Just pretend you’re on the bar dancing for me.”
I laugh. “You’re having a hard time accepting the friends part of our relationship, huh?”
“Nah, I get it.” He presses his palms to his thighs drawing my attention to his legs. “But that doesn’t mean I have to accept it.”
Oh. My. God.
His legs are so damn muscular I want to give them a squeeze, you know, to test out their… durability? But I stop myself even though it’s tempting.
“How about a little wager?”
I perk up at the mention of a bet. “What did you have in mind?”
“Play me in H-O-R-S-E,” Preston says. “If I win, you have to come tonight and dance in this contest with Jamie’s girl.”
“Okay.” I’ve got this in the bag. “And if I win, you have to wear a Spider-Man costume on campus for a day.”
Jamie laughs so hard he shakes the bench. “Aww, man, this is priceless.” He turns to Preston. “Sorry, bro, but I’m hoping your girl wins. What I wouldn’t do or pay to see you walk around in that costume.” Jamie glances at me. “I like how you think, Bex. You know, we should team up sometime. Teach Parker a lesson for being such a dick to me.”
“He’s joking,” Preston says. “I give him a hard time about being a nerd, but that’s about it.”
“You do it in front of Shannon.”
“It got you laid, did it not?” Preston challenges.
They share an intense moment that ends with them laughing.
Preston extends his hand to me. “What do you say, Bryant? Do we have a deal?”
I shake his hand. “You’re on, Parker.”
He gives me one of his boyish smirks.
I can’t decide whether I want to slap it from his face or kiss it from his lips.
Kiss, definitely kiss him.
After the youth league games end, Jamie sticks around to judge the outcome of my bet with Preston.
Jamie hands the ball to me after I win the coin toss. “You’re up, Bex.”
I take the ball from him, palming it in my hand.
“You ready to do this?” I ask Preston.
Preston moves his hands to his narrow hips, pushing up his T-shirt enough for me to see the ridges of his well-defined abs, distracting me. Damn him. Did he do that on purpose? He licks his lips following my line of sight. He knows what he’s doing. Jerk.
“Let’s see what you’ve got,” he says with a defiant smirk.
I take the ball through my legs, switching between hands, dribbling as I pass Preston on my way to the basket to make a layup. The ball goes into the basket with ease, and I hold up my hands, victorious.
“She scores,” I say, passing the ball to Preston. “Think you can match it?”
H-O-R-S-E requires the second player to match the shot. If I had missed the layup, Preston could have taken any shot he wanted.
He waves me off, a smirk touching his lips. “Please, girl, I got this. I learned how to make a layup when I was still in diapers.”
“You have to do a crossover, too,” I remind him. “That’s part of the shot.”