Theirs (Strength & Heat Trilogy #1) Read Online T.O. Smith

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Strength & Heat Trilogy Series by T.O. Smith
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Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 139803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 699(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
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I didn’t get Julian’s obsession with me, and this behavior was definitely out of the norm for him.

Julian Markos didn’t get attached to anyone.

So, to say that this shit was confusing and complicated for me was an understatement.

* * *

✶ ✶ ✶

* * *

I stepped into the bleachers halfway through the game, I was shocked to see that the other team was ahead by twenty-seven points.

That wasn’t normal, not since Julian had become the starting quarterback back in junior year.

I looked down at the field to see Julian storming off the field as he snatched his helmet off. He barked something at one of the coaches, but I was too far away to hear what it was. Vincent moved over to him, and I chewed on my bottom lip nervously when it looked like the two of them were arguing.

I hadn’t even planned to come to the game. I had been too nervous to sit in the bleachers by myself, unprotected. But sitting back at the frat house hadn’t been much better. At least at the game, I wasn’t sucked into my thoughts so much.

Vincent angrily shook his head and moved away from Julian. I looked back at Julian to see him sit down on the bench and drop his helmet at his feet. It was halftime, but Julian wasn’t moving from his spot anytime soon, even ignoring his coaches snapping at him to get his ass up and get in the locker room.

My phone pinged in my hand, and I looked down at it to see a text from Vincent.

* * *

I know I’m normally against you and Julian, but Meg, he fucking needs you. His head hasn’t been in football since you two stopped talking to each other Thurs. Please talk to him before we lose this fucking game.

* * *

With a sigh, I got up and moved down the bleachers, my heart pounding hard in my chest. My hands grew clammy with nervousness. Julian and I hadn’t spoken a single word to each other since I had snapped at him Thursday night and locked myself into my room.

I guessed it was taking its toll on him. This was supposed to have been an easy game, and yet, Julian’s head wasn’t in it.

“Julian!” I called as I moved along the fence line to where his coaches were arguing with him.

He turned to where my voice came from, his eyes softening from the angry ones they had been. Ignoring his coaches, he made his way over to me, meeting me halfway down the fence line.

“Didn’t think you were coming,” he said gruffly once he was standing in front of me.

I shrugged as I ran my eyes over his sweaty black curls and to his tired face. “Too much to think about when everything is silent,” I said in way of explanation.

He shrugged, glancing away from me. “Julian, what the fuck is going on with you?” I demanded. I waved my hand in the general direction of the field. “This should be a fucking easy game for you to win.”

He turned his gaze back to mine. “You,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine. I swallowed thickly, not expecting him to be so blunt, but I guess I should have been. “You’re my fucking problem, Meghan. You wheedled your fucking way under my skin, and you don’t want fucking shit to do with me. I can’t get you out of my fucking head,” he growled.

“I can’t give you what you want, Julian,” I said quietly. “You want too much.”

He shook his head with a bitter laugh. It was silent between us for a while before he finally looked back at me. “Stay for the game?” he asked me.

I let the previous conversation fall behind us. We were hot and cold; I knew that, but I also couldn’t deny we were drawn to each other in a way that was completely unnatural.

Yeah, it was fucking addicting. He was addicting.

I let a smile tilt my lips the slightest bit. “You plan on winning?” I asked him.

He reached out and cupped the side of my neck as he ran his thumb over my cheek. His blue eyes clashed with mine. “If you plan on staying, then yeah. I’ll fucking blow the other team off the damn field,” he swore.

“Promise?” I asked him.

A sexy, lopsided grin crossed his lips that had my heart skipping beats in my chest. “Yeah, for you, anything,” he agreed.

I swooned.

I leaned up on my tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his sweaty cheek. “Knock ‘em dead, Julian.”

He winked at me before he stepped back from me and turned on his heel, jogging toward the locker rooms.

Julian didn’t break his promise. When halftime was over, our team blew through the other team like they were nothing, and we won, making the other team lose by seventeen points.



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