Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
I stand up and walk to the other side of the room, standing in front of a wall covered with posters and framed photos of Dom. “And you’re just now telling me this?”
He belches, looking ambivalent. “What, like I owe you information about her or something? Fuck off, you guys had one shitty date.”
I could fight him right now. My blood is pumping as hard as it does when I fight opponents on the ice, and I need someone to punch.
“It wasn’t shitty!” I yell. “It was great until the last five minutes.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “What did you do in the last five minutes?”
I’ve never been one to kiss and tell. I guess this would be more like not kissing and telling, but I’m still not doing it. Dom has been pressing me for details about my date with Cam, but I’m still not budging.
I’m silent, fuming inside, and he gives me an accusatory look.
“Did you come within five minutes? Before she did? That’s what you did, isn’t it?” His face contorts into a sneer. “You blew your load too soon, you ass clown.”
Just the accusation sends me over the edge. I fly at him, shoving him off the couch. When we land on the floor, I’m on top of him. I punch him in the side and he grunts, using his leg to flip me off of him.
Neither of us will move back enough for the other to get in a hard punch, so we roll a few times, driving punches into each other’s sides.
“You were a fucking...disaster when...you met Tess,” I say, breathing hard. “Quit acting like...you were Prince fucking Charming.”
He rolls us both into a wall, making me groan as pain shoots through my left shoulder. I headbutt him as hard as I can.
“Eat shit,” he mutters, grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling it.
“That fucking hurts!” I growl and smack at his face.
He pulls harder. The bottom of his T-shirt has ridden all the way up to his neck from all the rolling around, so I grab one of his nipples and twist as hard as I can.
“Fuck! You’re ripping my goddamn nipple off!”
I cringe hard, sure my hair is about to come off from how hard he’s pulling. “You let go and I will.”
He grunts. “You let go.”
“You’re the one who—”
The door to the game room opens, both of us freezing as Tess, Cam, Tate and Sam all look at us. Cam looks confused, Tess looks pissed and both boys look delighted.
“WrestleMania!” Tate hollers, racing over and throwing himself on top of me and Dom.
Dom howls when Tate’s knee lands squarely on his crotch. I can’t keep myself from smiling.
“I’ll be the ref,” Sam says. “Who won the first match?”
“Me,” Dom says as he scrambles out from underneath me.
“It was a draw.” I look over at Cam, a shot of awareness shooting through me as our eyes lock.
Tess steps into the room, crossing her arms as she looks back and forth between us.
“Looked like some pretty realistic play wrestling. Dom, your forehead is bruised.”
He puts his fingertips to the growing knot on his forehead and glances at me, then back at his fiancée. “Why are you looking at me? I’m not the one who did this to my head.”
“I know you, and I know Rowan. I guarantee you’re the one who started it.”
I exhale hard, hating that I have to admit this in front of Cam. “It was actually me who started it. The physical part, I mean. He provoked me, though.”
Dom put his hand behind his back so the boys can’t see it and he flips me off.
“Do I need to put you two in separate corners?” Tess asks.
“Why aren’t you wrestling anymore?” Tate gives us a disappointed glare.
I reach down to help him get up from the floor. “Tell you what. I need to talk to your mom alone for a couple of minutes, and then I’ll wrestle with you.”
“Okay.”
When I look over at Cam, I can’t read her expression. She holds my gaze for a long second and then looks away.
I walk over to her, gesturing to the doorway. “After you.”
“Is it really after her, though?” Dom calls after us.
I shake my head and ignore him. Cam lowers her brows, confused.
“What’s he talking about?”
“I’ll tell you when we get downstairs,” I say in a low tone.
I follow her down the curved front stairway, resisting an urge to put my hand on her back as she walks toward the kitchen. I look around, not seeing Zee or Hannah, but still concerned someone could walk in and interrupt our conversation at any time.
“Let’s go in the laundry room,” I say.
She stops walking, her eyes widening. “The..” She clears her throat. “Um, the laundry room?”
Obviously the thought of going back into the room where I first kissed her is affecting her. I give her a wry smile.