Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 83550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
She looks peaceful, her features soft and relaxed in sleep, a stark contrast to the fire and sharp edges she carries when awake.
The sight of her tangled in my sheets feels right in a way it shouldn’t.
The most fucked-up part of all this is that I don’t regret blackmailing her.
Not even a little.
I like having Holland Tate at my mercy.
Five minutes later, I’m dressed and heading downstairs. The last thing I need is to be late after Coach was up my ass at practice. As I hit the bottom step, I freeze.
Ryder, Hayes, Riggs, Steele, and Maverick occupy the couches, looking strangely serious. Ford, Colby, Wolf, and Madden, my teammates who don’t live here, are perched on chair arms.
The low hum of conversation dies as they notice me, and a heavy silence follows.
My eyes narrow. “Why aren’t you guys at practice?”
Ryder clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “We thought it best to have this conversation here. First of all, you should know that we all care about you.” He glances at the others for backup. “And we only want the best for you.”
I blink. “Umm... okay.”
“And you’ve been going through a lot lately,” Ford adds. “We get it.”
A chorus of murmurs fills the room.
“Get what?” I step closer as tension coils in my gut. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Hayes clears his throat. “With the messages and your father...”
“What is this? An intervention?” I glance around, waiting for someone to crack a smile. Instead, that comment is met with crickets. My eyes widen. “Oh my God, this is an intervention.”
“I don’t think it’s necessary to slap a label on it,” Wolf says, his expression solemn.
“For what?” I bark, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m not drinking any more than you fuckers. I don’t have a gambling problem. And last time I checked, I wasn’t hoarding stray cats in my room.”
“Not yet anyway,” Ford mutters.
Wolf rises to his feet, drawing my attention back to him. “Is it true?”
“Is what true?”
“Are you actually dating Holland Tate?”
For fuck’s sake. Is that what this is about?
I press my lips together. “So what if I am? Is it really that big of a deal?”
“Yeah, it kind of is.” Wolf drags a hand over his shaved head.
Steele smothers a laugh with a cough. I glare at him, knowing he won’t be any help. After the text I shot him last night, he’s the only one who knows the truth. And the bastard is enjoying this way too much.
“Look,” Ryder steps in, face earnest, “you’ve been under a lot of pressure lately. We get it.”
“Do you?” I growl. “Because it sounds like you’re all one bad joke away from staging an exorcism.”
“We’re just worried,” Maverick adds. “Everyone knows you hate Holland Tate. A few weeks ago, you threatened to wring her neck.”
“I don’t hate her,” I snap, but their dubious glances tell me I’ve already lost this battle. “You guys don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t we?” Colby pipes up. “It’s not exactly normal to go from despising someone to dating them overnight.”
“We’ve been seeing each other on the down-low,” I blurt before scowling at him. “Kind of like someone I know who secretly married a reality star in Vegas?”
He shrugs. “In my defense, I had no idea who she was.”
“I think we can all agree this relationship came out of nowhere,” Ryder interjects, trying to keep the intervention on track. “We just want to make sure you’re good.”
“I still think it’s a cry for help.” Ford leans forward. “Blink twice if she’s got something on you and you’re being watched.”
“Shut up, Hamilton.”
Wolf steps closer, arms crossed. “With everything you’re dealing with, no one would blame you for going off the deep end.”
From the corner of my eye, I catch Steele’s shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Any second he’s going to lose it and roll around on the floor.
“I appreciate the concern,” I grind out, “but everything’s under control.”
Except nothing could be further from the truth.
I look around at my teammates. These guys are the ones who’ve always had my back. The truth sits heavy on my tongue, but I can’t risk one of them letting it slip. This thing with Holland is too precarious.
Instead, I give them a small piece of the story. “Something happened with Holland a couple years ago,” I admit, voice low. “And she’s always been there, in the back of my mind. Whatever this is between us needs to run its course. All right?”
They stare at me, and for a second I think they’ll keep pushing, but then Ryder nods. “Okay.”
“Okay?” I blink. “That’s it? No more with the third degree?”
“We’re still concerned,” Maverick says, rising to his feet. “But if this is your way of getting closure, we’ll support it. Even if you’re not thinking clearly.”
“Or at all,” Ford adds with a smirk.