Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
“Kinda harsh, don’t you think?”
The bartender returns with my beer, and I hand her my credit card to start a tab.
Will presses his lips together, his jaw clenched. “Answer the question. Do you love my sister?”
I pound half the bottle in one gulp and set it back down on the bar. Serious conversations require a lot of alcohol. “Yes. I told her this morning after you stormed off.”
Will pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers and sighs. “Okay… fuck.” He mutters something to himself under his breath. “I guess it’s better than Mia hooking up with someone I hate. But you know what this means, right?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “No.”
“Our friendship won’t survive if you hurt her. Because I’ll kill you. So, don’t break her heart.”
I give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I promise to take good care of Mia. This is what you’ve wanted for her all along. Someone to look out for her.”
He takes a sip from his beer, staring at me, his face expressionless. A beat passes between us before he bobs his head in agreement. “Yeah, I guess so. All I care about is her happiness. If this is what you both want, I don’t have to like it, but I can accept it. Maybe the idea of you two will grow on me over time.”
“That’s all I can ask for,” I mutter. “I’m glad it didn’t come down to us beating the shit out of each other.”
Will laughs. “Why? Because you know I would kick the shit out of your punk ass.”
I smirk. “No, because I would’ve let you do it just to get out your anger.”
Like I let my dad do when I was a kid.
“Now that’s stupid.” He shakes his head, amused. “We move back to our condo tomorrow. What are you planning to do about Mia? Is she moving in with us? Like what the hell is going on with you two?”
“We’re dating not getting married. At least not anytime soon. This is almost as new for us as it is for you.”
“Promise me one thing,” Will says.
“Anything.”
“Don’t fuck my sister while I’m home. I’ll need lots of fucking therapy if you do.”
I nudge him in the arm and laugh. “You already need lots of therapy.”
“True, but I’d need a lobotomy if I had to hear that shit. It was bad enough seeing your bare ass this morning when I went into Mia’s bedroom to wake her up.”
We break out into a fit of laughter. My friend returns with each swig of beer.
“I can do that,” I promise.
“This sucks.” Will scans the wall of expensive liquor bottles behind the bar. “No more chasing after women with you. I need a new wingman.”
“Liam would be happy to take a few girls off your hands. You can always give him a call. Just because I’m with your sister doesn’t mean I’m dead. I’m still your wingman only in a different capacity now.”
“You got that right,” he hisses. “If I ever see a woman around you that doesn’t share my DNA, I’ll kick your ass.”
I smile at his threat. “Duly noted.”
“Enough talk about my sister.” Will raises his beer to tap the bottle in my hand. “Drink up, motherfucker. Tomorrow is moving day.”
And my last night at Mia’s apartment.
The little black dress Ethan had insisted I buy for our date finally came in handy. Ethan took me to a fancy Italian restaurant in the city with all the bells and whistles. He picked me up in a limo, which was total overkill but still awesome. I felt like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman minus the hooker part. He showed up at my door with a bouquet of white roses dyed baby blue—my favorite color. Our date was perfection.
With Ethan at my side, I enter my apartment and kick off my shoes. My feet are killing me from wearing heels. Me in heels. How comical! I laughed when Ethan sent me a pair of black Christian Louboutin pumps that fit me as if they were designed specifically for my feet. Alanna, his personal shopper, really knows her shit.
I crash on the couch and kick my aching feet up on the coffee table. Just because I scored the sexiest hockey player in the NHL doesn’t mean I’ve changed one bit. I’m still the same girl who likes her Cheetos out of the bag and vodka straight from the bottle. I doubt I’ll ever get used to Ethan pampering me.
Ethan lifts my legs onto his lap and massages my sore feet with his calloused fingers. He runs his hand up my bare thigh and stops before he reaches my panties, my core throbbing and desperate for his touch.
I lean my head back against a stack of pillows and smile up at him. “Want to rent a movie?”