Pretend It’s Real for Me – You Belong With Me Read Online Whitney G

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 93699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
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“The private meet and greet at The Cosmopolitan?”

“Yeah, it’ll probably last seven or eight hours.” He paused. “You don’t have to go, but some of my fans do want to see you, according to Madeline.”

“I’d love to go.”

“Good.”

A weighted silence suddenly hung between us.

“Why did you break up with me back then?” he asked. “I really need to know.”

“Travis, I had to…”

He trailed a finger against my lips. “To see what it was like to break me?”

“No.” I shook my head. “You wouldn’t have understood.”

“Do you think I’ll understand now?”

“Not really.”

Silence.

“Are you and I going to be a problem now or in the future?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not letting you go that easily this time. We’re going far past ninety days together.”

I was still processing the past several hours; I hadn’t thought that far ahead.

As if he could read my mind, he sighed.

“We’ll discuss it later.” He slid his hands under my body, rolling me on top of him. “What can I do to make our marriage better for you?”

“You can stop charging for every little thing I use in your condo.”

“I never started,” he said. “I put prices on things, but I haven’t kept up with anything. Is that it?”

“You can talk to me when you come home every night instead of shutting yourself on your side.”

“I will.” He planted a kiss on my neck. “What else?”

“That’s all I can ask for now, given the intense promo season that comes with your rematch.”

“If you think of anything else, let me know.” He rolled me on top of him, and within seconds he was sliding inside me again.

THIRTY-SEVEN

TRAVIS

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THE SNARKY GLOVE

#1 UFC & MMA GOSSIP SOURCE FOR FANGIRLS

Dearest Fans,

Stop the presses!

We have just received pictures of Mr. & Mrs. Carter from several years ago. If you zoom in past the selfie-takers and into the background, you can clearly see that it’s them.

Standing in a hallway, Travis cups Tatiana’s face in his hands while pinning her against the wall with his hips. He’s seconds away from kissing her lips, seconds away from taking the keycard in her hand and swiping it against the suite next to them.

According to our source, the first two shots were taken at a hotel in Canada, while the others were snapped elsewhere. They stumbled across them while working on a video project about figure skating.

Assuming these takes aren’t photoshopped (we’re about to spend our entire weekend to make sure), this would imply that there’s more to their love story than what they’ve told us.

Have they lied about never falling for each other until recently? Why is he touching her like that if they “never knew each other well until now?”

We’re determined to find out.

Stay tuned for more news & updates,

The Snarky Glove

ACT TEN

BACK THEN

TATIANA

Sochi, Russia

There’s no way I can win gold today.

My heart is splintering inside my chest, and I can feel each shard’s impact as I complete the final two spins in my short program.

To anyone watching, my skating looked flawless the past couple of minutes, but I know better.

Despite rehearsing this routine a million times, I faltered twice in the middle of a simple axel. My speed dragged when I launched into a triple lutz, and even though I haven’t made any other mistakes, there’s little room for error at this level.

The music stops, and I hold my pose at the center of the rink. A thunderous applause breaks out in the arena, followed by joyous cries of “USA! USA!”

Faking a smile, I skate toward my coach and cover my blades before heading toward the ‘kiss and cry’ area. Hundreds of depressing thoughts are running through my mind, and I’m far too disappointed in myself to stop them.

Maybe if I’d gotten one more week of practice, stopped staying up late to talk on the phone, or hadn’t driven to see Travis last month when I lied to Coach about being sick...

My scores appear onscreen mid-thought, and my on-ice suspicions are confirmed.

The best I can get today is silver.

Travis calls later that night to congratulate me.

Then again, maybe he’s calling to wish me well for the business program I’ll start in two weeks or to ask if I’ve received the massive rose bouquet on my nightstand.

I can’t bring myself to answer the phone at this moment, though.

Penelope is staying in the room across the hall, and she’s been screaming, “Fuck Tatiana Brave! USA! USA!”

I desperately want to confide in Travis about the pain I’m feeling, the fear of being destined to always be second best.

Alas, I never talk to him about his sister, and I don’t want to start now. But I can’t pretend this part of my life doesn’t exist tonight.



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