Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89658 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89658 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
“You know you don’t have to rush to get a job, right?” Caleb says, giving me a pointed look.
“I know, and I really do appreciate it, but we’ve been over this. I want a job. I actually like working. I’m not here to freeload off you, okay? I want to contribute, and not just to the house. I’m good at what I do and want to keep doing it.”
Caleb exhales and leans against the counter. “All right, I get it. Just know that you don’t have to be in a hurry to find one.”
I step forward and kiss his cheek. “I know. Thank you.”
“So, you’re coming to Chicago, huh? Dad says you’re coming with the team on Sunday morning.”
“I am. I’d prefer just to fly myself, but you know how he is.”
Caleb laughs. “I’m familiar. Listen, I’m gonna run upstairs and return a call to my agent. I’ll be down later.”
Nodding, I throw him a wave as he exits the kitchen, leaving me alone to finish filling the dishwasher. After about fifteen minutes, I hear footfalls on the stairs. When no one joins me a few minutes after and my task is finally complete, I turn to head to the living room to catch up on that new rock star’s documentary I recorded.
Turning around, a scream slips from my lips as my hands cover my racing heart. “Jesus, Brock, you scared the shit out of me.”
He just smiles, the softest, sweetest smile, as he pushes off from the doorjamb he’s leaning against. “Sorry, not my intention.”
“Were you watching me?” I ask, trying to recall if I did something really embarrassing like pick my underwear out of my ass or do a weird little dance while I was loading the dishwasher.
“Yes,” he answers, pointblank. “The view was incredible.” He reaches for me, gently pulling me into his arms and kissing my lips. “How was your day?”
“Good. I sent out a few résumés, scheduled another interview for next week, and made a few phone calls.”
He nods. “I hear you’re taking a little trip this weekend.” Brock pulls a mangled piece of paper from his pocket and holds it up. “I think someone tried to snack on it, but I’m pretty sure I was able to get the gist of the story.” His blue eyes dance with fire as he scans over the words.
Clearing my throat, I run my hands up his chest. “What did you think? Of the story.”
Brock reaches for my hand and places it over his hard cock. “I say I more than liked it, don’t you think, Sunshine?”
My hand flexes over the bulging crotch of his shorts, cupping him and sliding my hand along his length. “I do think you liked it.”
An animalistic growl slides from his throat. “We only have one little problem,” he whispers, nipping at my earlobe. When he meets my gaze, he drops the bomb. “I’m bunking with Caleb for this trip. We’re all sharing rooms.”
My lungs deflate, my heart dropping to my toes. “Really?”
He nods in confirmation. “But… I think I can make it work. It won’t be my bed you’re in, but what if I’m in yours?”
My ears perk up at his suggestion. “You can do that?”
He shrugs. “Well, it’ll be a bit more challenging, but yeah, I can do that. It may not sound like the best plan, but when I tell your brother I’m not sleeping in our room, I can say I met someone.” His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. I can tell he doesn’t like the idea.
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
His eyes dance with desire once more. “Or I could just tell him about you.”
Resting my cheek against his chest, I exhale. “Not quite yet. Not on our first night away. I don’t want to cause any problems between you two right now, especially if you’ll be rooming together.”
He sighs and wraps his arms around my back. “I get it.”
“We’ll tell him soon.”
“Promise? I don’t think I can keep this casual appearance up much longer, Sunshine. Not when I see you and want to hold and kiss you. I want us more than my next breath, and I don’t give a shit who sees or what they think about it.”
I nod in understanding. “After the Monday night game, you have a bye week. We can tell him then. This way, if it causes any problems, we have time to try to fix it.”
“Deal,” he says, kissing my lips soundly. “Next weekend, I’m telling your brother I’m in love with you.”
I can’t help but smile. Hearing those words never gets old.
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
Brock
At last week’s away game, I was away from her for three days. Three days of text messages, phone and video calls when we could squeeze them in, and I thought it was torture.
I was wrong.
This is torture.
I had to watch one of my teammates hit on her during the entire plane ride. By the time we landed, I was spitting nails. I was so pissed off. It’s not his fault, I get that, but she’s mine. Mine to touch, mine to kiss, mine to love, and mine to flirt with. Not his. Mine. My anger doesn’t do any of us any good, certainly not me, because I can’t tell him she’s mine. Like I said torture.