Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
He brings his arm to his side, the cuts in his arm muscles on full display as he brings the ball to his ear and launches it my way. It’s fast and hard and I catch it like the professional’s little sister that I am.
“Hell, yeah!” he says, beaming. “You can catch a ball too?”
“Did you forget who I am?” I place my fingers on the laces like Finn taught me when I was ten. Pulling it back to the side of my head, I let it sail back with a flick of my wrist.
I’ve never thrown a more perfect spiral than this pass. Branch stands, arms to his sides, as he watches it spin through the air. Just before it almost hits him in the chest, he swipes it out of the air.
“Color me impressed.” He tucks the ball at his side. “Did Finn teach you that?”
“Of course. Who else?”
He winds the ball back and throws it to me again. “Maybe Callum?”
“Callum didn’t teach me anything,” I say, snapping the ball out of the air. “He was too busy doing other things. And other people.”
I toss it back to him.
“Now you don’t know that,” he jokes. “He might’ve been meeting friends for coffee.”
“Are you trying to piss me off?” I catch his pass. “Because if so, you’re doing a damn good job.”
“Don’t be pissed at me. I’m not the asshole who cheated on you.”
“But you would, wouldn’t you? I mean, don’t you all?”
He snags the pigskin and stands still. “I’m offended you’d lump us all together like that.”
“You are not.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” he chuckles, passing the ball to me again. “I’m not. But, no, I don’t think everyone cheats. A large percentage, probably. But I don’t cheat because I don’t make commitments. See? Problem solved.”
I’m about to tell him what a bullshit answer that is . . . until I think about it.
“You know what? I think you’re right,” I tell him.
“I am?”
“Yeah, I’m as amazed as you.”
He narrows his eyes, but a smile plays on his lips. “It saves you so much time and pain. If they do something stupid, not your problem. If you don’t want to go to the movie to see some crazy shit, who cares? If you want to have your cock sucked by a stripper on the Strip, so be it.”
The ball hits the sand at my feet. I don’t blink, just raise a brow. “For one, that was the shittiest pass I’ve ever seen. For two, I don’t have to worry about getting my cock sucked.”
“Thank God,” he says, jogging towards me. He lifts the ball. “If you have a cock, my weekend plans are fucked.”
“Ha.” I head towards my towel, feeling his gaze burn into my bottoms. “If that’s your plan, you need a backup.”
“That sounds like a challenge.”
“Of course it does,” I say, putting my notepad in my bag. “Isn’t that all you really want? A challenge? A game to conquer?”
He scoffs, but I can tell I’m right. Looking up from my kneeling position, the longest, most confident look crosses his handsome face. “I don’t know what I really want.”
With that line, he surprises me. Leaving me sitting on the sand, ball tucked to his side, he walks back to the cabin.
CHAPTER 8
BRANCH
“Then he comes down the stairs with his—”
“Stop!” Layla shouts, covering her ears. “I can’t hear any more of this.”
“I wasn’t even to the good part,” I laugh, setting down my bottle of beer. “Come on. Just let me finish.”
“No,” she laughs. “No. No more. I can’t.”
Poppy wipes tears from her eyes from laughing so hard at my tale from the locker room. Finn stands next to her, watching me tell the story. He knows half of what I’ve just said isn’t one hundred percent true, but it was good enough to entertain the girls. And him. He was laughing too.
Music plays on the overhead system as we shoot the shit. Finn brought back beer and steaks for the grill from his earlier trip to Linton. While the girls made some dips for chips and some vegetables Poppy apparently insisted on that almost caused bloodshed in the grocery, Finn and I worked the grill. It’s been one of the best, most relaxing afternoons I’ve had in a long time.
“Tell them the story about the direct message with the donkey nuts,” Finn requests.
“Okay, so this girl—”
“Answer me this,” Layla cuts me off. “Do you ever get normal messages? I mean, these stories are insane. Is your inbox full of crazies?”
“It was until those pictures of the commissioner’s daughter got leaked last year,” I grimace, thinking back on the mess I had on my hands from that little episode. “After that, Coach made us all shut off our inboxes on social media.”
“I thought that was a lie!” Poppy exclaims. “Seriously? Those pics of her were real?”