Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
“What the fuck?” Prescott exclaims.
“Our dads never told anyone who was the bio dad of which child, and growing up, everyone assumed I was a Talon because it’s my last name, but as we grew into teens, it became obvious.”
I hum. “I remember seeing an article where your brother and dad were photographed next to each other. They almost looked like twins.”
“Ugh. Never let my dad hear that, or he’d gloat about how he can pass for being in his twenties again.”
“Hey, maybe your brother looks fifty? You don’t know what I meant.”
“You’re sweet for trying to cover.” Brady kisses me. “But anyway, the fact Coach brought DNA into it, belittling how hard Peyton and I had worked to get where we were, it’d taken all of my strength not to punch our coach in the face. Pey was the one who held me back. I hated the comparisons. Peyton took them easier than I did, but that day, I saw how truly worn down he was. It was the moment I realized that if we both pursued football, the chances are we’d be drafted to different teams, and we wouldn’t have each other to get through those situations together anymore. I vowed to have his back like he had mine. I figured being his agent was the best way to do it.”
“Wow,” Prescott whispers.
Brady turns his head toward him. “What?”
“Nothing. Don’t get me wrong when I say this because I admire my siblings and what they’ve achieved, but … Well, I guess I’m so different from them that making a big sacrifice like that out of love wouldn’t even occur to me.”
“It’s not a sacrifice. I really love it. Even when my clients are divas or anxiety-ridden. Actually … they’re the only two clients I have so far. Fuck, all athletes are going to be that demanding, aren’t they?”
“Well, you know your brother. He’s your base level.”
“Ergh. They’re all going to be over-the-top monsters. Maybe I’m not cut out for this job after all.”
I can’t tell if he’s joking or not, but either way, that can’t be true. I witnessed how good he is tonight. It might have been the sexiest I’ve ever found him. Brady’s confidence in himself is what has had me coming back for more. Well, that and the way he gives up control. With his client, he was the one in charge. So knowing he gives that all up for us is so sexy. A total bottom with a toppy attitude.
“I’m sure whatever you wanted to do, you’d excel at,” I say.
“Except cleaning,” Prescott says. “Don’t become a housekeeper or maid. Your definition of tidy is … not.”
“Agreed,” I say. “Do anything except that.”
“Excuse me, but I was on vacation in Florida, okay? You don’t have to be tidy when you’re on vacation. Besides, you guys picked up after me anyway, so why clean when I could sunbake?”
“Life motto, right there,” Prescott says. “Something we should all live by. Like, always. Mainly the sunbaking part because that would mean we’d be in a climate where it was possible to sunbake without getting hypothermia.”
Brady leans in close to my ear, his breath ghosting over my skin. “I thought SEALs were supposed to be tough?”
I laugh.
“Heard that,” Prescott mumbles.
“I’d offer to take you inside and warm you up, but I get the feeling Kit’s holding us both hostage out here.” He’d be right about that. “My guess is he’s so old he can’t get it up again yet and is stalling.”
Little shit.
I poke his ribs. “I’m so sorry for being interested in your life outside of us.”
Brady pulls back so he can stare down at me. “Is that what this is?”
“That, and it really is a beautiful night.”
Brady wraps his arms around me, snuggling into me. “It really is. If it weren’t for Prescott possibly dying, I could stay out here with you all night.”
“All night?” Prescott squeaks.
“Should we at least go inside and sit in front of the fire?” Brady asks.
I pat his cheek. “Fine. Lounging in front of the fireplace sounds nice too.”
“Thank fuck.” Prescott stands and runs inside so fast he drops blankets on the way.
“And you say I’m the messy one.” Brady picks them up as he moves inside.
With one last look out at the still lake and frozen night air, I follow Brady and Prescott to make the most of this short time we have together.
Prescott’s on the couch in front of the fire, with Brady lying down and using Prescott’s lap as a pillow. Prescott’s running a hand through Brady’s hair gently, and they look so … domestic.
We’ve reached the level of comfort between us where affection is given freely, and for a brief moment, I imagine a future where this could be ours permanently.
Brady lifts his head. “I saved you a spot.”