Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 116028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
My gaming setup is a bit intense for a college student, complete with three hi-def monitors, a programmable keyboard, a fully customizable gaming mouse, and a graphics card that cost more than I’d like to admit. But frickin’ worth it.
I reach for the black-and-neon-green headphones hanging off the external speakers and slide them on. I watch a couple of streams, then check the private message board I set up for my beta group. Access to the game was by invite only, so the only people playing Legion 48 are the ones I chose and approved. On the chat feed, there are a few requests for cheat codes that make me roll my eyes. I skim those and search for usable data. The point of this version is to get the bugs fixed so that the final product is fully functional.
Nothing jumps out at me. I sip my coffee as comments and questions pop up on the screen, the feed scrolling itself with each new line of text. I’m not surprised to see so many of the players online this early. Chances are, they never even went to bed.
When I hear footsteps in the hallway, my head jerks warily toward the door. Someone enters the hall bathroom and closes the door. A few minutes later the shower comes on.
I wonder if it’s Summer. Part of me hopes it isn’t and that I’ll be able to escape the house and go to practice without seeing her at all. Every interaction she and I shared yesterday had been beyond awkward. And don’t get me started on the night before, when I had to fireman-carry her drunk ass upstairs.
Her drunk, very fine ass. I’m talking smoke show, unbelievably firm, mouthwateringly round, I-want-that-ass ass.
I liked you.
I’ve been trying not to dwell on the three words she’d hurled my way. She’d been wasted when she said them, and I don’t take much stock in alcohol-fueled declarations.
More footsteps echo outside my door. This time I know for sure who it is—Hollis. He’s mumbling to himself about how badly he needs to piss.
I’m suddenly reminded of Brenna making that same walk down the hall. Hollis couldn’t shut up yesterday about their hookup, acting like he’d scored a winning lottery ticket. I guess that’s not far off the mark, since I’m fairly certain this is the first time Brenna’s hooked up with one of us. Normally she avoids us like the plague, though I don’t know if that’s because she doesn’t like hockey players or because she’s smart enough to know what Coach would do if one of us ever touched his precious daughter.
Hollis, sadly, isn’t smart. Fearless, yes. But not smart. Because if Coach ever finds out what he did, he’ll tie him up naked and spread-eagled to the net and practice his slap shot.
“Eeeeeeeeee!”
I almost fall out of my chair as an ear-splitting scream pierces the quiet house. My blood runs cold and I’m on my feet in a heartbeat, lunging for the door.
My brain goes caveman on me.
Summer scream.
Summer danger.
Save Summer.
Fists up, I throw myself into the hall and then skid to a stop when the bathroom door flies open. A boxers-clad Hollis is unceremoniously dumped at my feet.
“No!” Summer shrieks. “You can’t just come in here when I’m in the shower! That is UNACCEPTABLE!”
Oh boy.
She stumbles out, her blonde hair soaked and dripping water all over her wet, golden skin. Soapsuds run down her bare arms, and it’s obvious she grabbed the wrong towel because this one is too small—the top of it barely contains her breasts and the bottom barely covers her thighs. If the white terrycloth slides one inch in either direction, we’ll all be in trouble.
My mouth goes bone dry. Her legs are impossibly long and they’re so fucking sexy I can’t help picturing them wrapped around my waist.
I gulp. Hard.
Meanwhile, Hollis looks dazed. “I was just taking a leak,” he protests.
“I was in the shower!” she screeches. “And I locked the door!”
“Lock’s broken.”
“Now you tell me that!”
He rubs his eyes. “Don’t see the big deal here, babe.”
“Don’t call me babe.”
Hunter’s door swings open. “What the hell is going on?” His eyebrows shoot up when he takes in the scene. “What did you do?” he growls at Hollis.
“I didn’t do anything,” Hollis grumbles.
“He walked in on me in the shower!”
“I was just pissing! It’s not like I got in the shower with you.”
“That’s not the point!” She points at the bathroom door. “See that room? It’s a sacred room! It’s a temple, Mike! It is meant for one person, and one person alone. Like solitary confinement.”
“So is it a prison or a temple?” the bonehead asks.
“Shut up,” she snaps. “And listen to me, Hollis. Unlike you, I don’t have a penis.”
“Well, thank God for that.”
“Hollis,” I warn in a low voice.
He slams his mouth shut.