Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
He takes a shot, but I get an arm up and the ball grazes my fingers, deflecting off the backboard. I snag the rebound and go into a layup, tipping the ball smoothly into the basket.
“Showoff,” Brax says, but there’s no heat to it.
“Genius will out,” I razz him, and pass the ball to Gray. He immediately breaks around me and goes for the basket, but Brax is in his way. Gray pivots, zips around Brax, and the ball swishes through the net.
Brax is right there for the rebound, and this time he goes up and dunks the ball.
I grin. This is going to be fun.
We take turns shooting, guarding, passing, not keeping score in any official way, though my automatic mental tally says we’re pretty even there. Despite us all being big guys, we’re fast and move well, better than someone would expect without seeing us in action.
You can tell a lot about a man by the way he treats a competition, even a friendly one like this. I’ve been looking for signs of ego, selfishness, unwarranted aggression—anything that might make these men unworthy of dating Ava.
I’m relieved that I don’t see red flags. There’s still that part of me that would be pleased if Ava suddenly decided she only wanted to date me, but for now, her choice is all three of us, and based on what I’ve been hearing from her, I’m reassured that they both seem to be keeping her best interests in mind.
She’ll be safe to experience what she wants to, and make her choice about the kind of man she wants to be with. I don’t let myself think about how I’ll feel if she decides I’m not the man who suits her for the long term.
We play for an hour, then stop to drink some water. “Well?” Brax says. “You gonna tell us what your agenda is?”
I shrug. “Who says I have one?”
“All right,” he says easily. “Be that way.”
“He’s sizing you up,” Gray says. “And me too, even though he already knows me. Making sure we’re good enough for his girl.” He slants me a look. “She’s our girl, too, until she says otherwise.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I know that.”
“I’m confident you’re looking out for Ava,” Brax says to me. “And I know I am.” He turns to look at Gray. “I wasn’t so sure about you.”
BRAX
Gray’s jaw goes hard, along with his eyes. It’s the first sign of true temper I’ve seen from him all evening. Our play has gotten rough at times, but nothing that would draw a foul in a real game.
Interesting that the suggestion he wouldn’t treat Ava right is what pisses him off.
“Look,” I say, “it’s partly my own bias. I grew up poor, with a single mom and younger siblings to look after. I’ve seen my fair share of pretty boys with money along the way, and they’re usually the hit-it-and-quit-it type.”
He nods, his expression still flinty. “And now?”
I shrug. “You play fair. You don’t cheat, you don’t sulk, and you don’t hog the ball. I’m not getting the impression that you’re the kind of man who only cares about himself.”
All true. When Erik invited me here, I was prepared to hate Gray, to try to scare him away from Ava, or to warn her away from him, but I’m forced to admit that her instincts about him were better than mine. He seems solid.
He studies me for a long moment, then says, “Okay. Just for the record, I’ll beat the shit out of either or both of you if you hurt her.”
I give him a look that says I’ll do the same if he turns out to be an asshole. “Deal.” When I hold out my hand for a fist bump, he meets it.
“Listen. I have an idea,” Erik says.
Gray smirks. “More male bonding?”
“Sort of. Something we can do for Ava.”
“I’m all ears,” I say.
He nods at me and says, “I noticed you drive a truck …”
AVA
“You made all this?” I’m seated at a dining table at Brax’s home, and he’s just brought in a plate holding two enormous grilled steaks. It joins a steaming bowl of mashed potatoes topped with melting butter, a dish of garlic green beans, and a basket of rolls.
His proud and self-assured smile answers my question before he speaks. “Yes. All from scratch, except the rolls.”
“It all looks amazing.” Though I love eating, I don’t have much of a knack for cooking, and I was already impressed when Brax invited me over for a homemade meal. This exceeds my expectations.
He pulls out the chair across from me and settles into it, his big body dwarfing the table. “Better wait until you taste it before you give me compliments.”
“I can tell by how everything smells that it’s going to be good.”