Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
“Well, you just can't go around fighting with anybody who is mean to me on the team,” I fire back. “Hell, Clay barely gives me answers sometimes and can be reduced to simple grunts or glares, and I don't see you fighting him!”
“Clay adores you,” he says. “He actually wants to protect you, in a way that even I don't understand. In a way that I think you could clear up, but you haven't.”
I gasp, taking a step back at the drastic left turn he’s just taken. “What are you talking about?”
“Don't play coy with me, damsel. You’re way smarter than that and you're not giving me enough credit. I've spent enough time with you now to know that you're hiding things from me. Things about this team or the players, I don't know. And I'm fine with that. Everything between us is new, and I know how toxic your relationship was with your ex, so I'm not pushing any topics that you don’t want to open up about. But back to your original comment, Clay may be an asshole, but he’s more of the teddy bear asshole type when you really get to know him. Waller, on the other hand, disrespected you in a way I didn't like.”
I swallow the lump in my throat, somehow wanting to cry and throw my arms around him at the same time at how simply he dismisses me keeping secrets and accepts it and supports me at the same time.
How can he be so incredibly infuriating and insanely compassionate at the same goddamn time?
I study the harsh lines of his face, his chiseled features tight as the muscle in his jaw ticks. “What bothered you more, Lawson?” I ask, my tone soft, any traces of anger completely vanished. “That he disrespected me or that he accused me of fucking someone else?”
A low growl rumbles from his chest, and it sends warm shivers skittering across my skin.
“I don't know which one bothered me more,” he admits, the fire leaking out of his tone. “I know the idea of you fucking a Shark spun my head.”
“But you have to know I'm not,” I say, shaking my head. “It's a good team, anyone would be ridiculous not to acknowledge that—”
“How would I know that really, though?” he asks. “That's what it comes down to, doesn't it?” He motions to the small space between us. “It's not like we've had the exclusive talk,” he continues. “We've only ever told each other how much we don't want a relationship despite spending nearly every waking minute with each other.” He releases a heavy sigh, and I look up at him, my heart aching to find the right words.
“You can start by asking me if I'm sleeping with anyone else,” I say. “That's simple enough and doesn't carry any weight to it, not really. And my answer would be no.”
“Just no?” he asks, a little bit of mischief flickering in his eyes.
I purse my lips to try and hide my smirk. “Fine, not just no,” I say. I step a little closer until our bodies are almost flush. “I'm not sleeping with anybody because I know no one else can compare to the great and amazing and incredibly infuriating Lawson Wolfe.”
His smirk deepens. “Well, that much is obvious.”
I raise my brows at him. “Are you sleeping with anyone else?” I ask when he doesn't immediately offer his side of this little dance.
His brow furrows. “No.”
I tilt my head, trailing my fingertip along one of his tense forearms that are still crossed over his chest. “Just no?”
He drops his arms from their agitated stance, instead electing to gently grip my chin between his fingers. “No,” he says. “Not just no. I can't think or breathe without feeling you in here.” He uses his free hand to tap the center of his chest, and I swear my heart clenches. “And I have no clue what to do with that feeling. I've never felt it before. And I know the timing is shit, so again, I'm not pressing the issue. Neither of us knows what to do with what's going down between us, but I'm fine eating up the seconds you feel like giving me.”
I melt a little.
No, scratch that. I melt a lot.
And I don't have the words to match the sincerity of his, but I hope he can read it in my eyes. I hope he can see that I reflect his feelings like a mirror. So, I do the only thing I can think of, which is throw my arms around his neck and kiss him in a way that hopefully conveys every single way I feel about him.
Intense, playful, passionate, endearing.
I pour every single emotion into the kiss and sigh between his lips when his arms automatically envelope me, wrapping around my lower back and lifting me to his level with an effortless grace that makes me feel like I'm flying.