Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 89535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
“I’m premed. I told you I didn’t have much free time.”
“Not even for your best friend?” he asks playfully.
“Actually, I see Katey a fair bit.”
“I was talking about me, buttmunch.”
Fucking duh. “Since when are we best friends?”
“Since you parent trapped me. Only best friends get away with that shit.” Asher shifts. “Maybe, uh, we could all hang out? You, me, and your friend.”
My stomach bottoms out, and it has nothing to do with the elevator reaching our floor and jolting to a stop. I’m not sure if Asher even knows who Katey is, but as much as he’d tried to keep his tone casual, that question was anything but. Asher’s already made it clear he’s not picky, and Katey thinks he’s hot because, well, she has eyes, and now all I can picture is the two of them going at it and gross, gross, gross.
“Yeah, maybe,” I finally answer. But that maybe translates into never, ever, never.
Ever.
We reach our room, and Asher walks straight past me and claims the bed next to the window. “So you know, this side’s always mine.”
“Why?”
“Because if someone comes through the door to murder us, you’ll be the first victim.”
Big, bad hockey player, folks. “Makes sense. If we were about to be murdered, I wouldn’t want to watch what was about to happen to me. I’d rather go first.”
A flicker of uncertainty crosses his face.
“But hey, if I’m gutted, at least you’ll be able to study the intestinal tract in great detail before you die.”
He groans. “I’m still lost on that.”
“Good thing we have all night to study.”
His attention snaps back to me. “Yeah, no way am I spending the whole night doing that.”
“Too late. We already agreed.”
He hangs his head back. “The one time I don’t have to go home after a game to look after my siblings because my parents died and you’re going to lock me in a room to study?”
I almost laugh. Ever since Coach Dalton mentioned Asher does that, I’d been waiting for him to use it against me. “Am I supposed to give you sympathy now?”
“Worth a try.”
“I’m not going to lock you in a room—again. If you want to go, then you’re a grown-up and can make your own choices. When you’re kicked off the team, maybe I’ll room with Simms.” They might be getting along better now, but I don’t think the vague rivalry between them will ever die.
“Fine.” He starts pulling clothes out of his bag. “Let me get changed out of this damn monkey suit first.”
I want to argue that there’s no reason for him to do that. Studying in a suit is totally a thing that people do.
He passes me on the way to the bathroom, and I can’t pull my eyes away.
Asher catches me checking him out, and at this point, I think we’re both well aware of how attracted to him I am. “Keep looking at me like that and we’ll be doing something other than studying tonight.”
“It’s sweet you think I’m that easy.”
“It’s more that I’m confident in my skills.” His gaze rakes over me as he closes the bathroom door. I’m sort of surprised—and disappointed—that he didn’t change in front of me since he’s already proved he’s not exactly shy about showing off. Then again, stripping off in a locker room is a bit different to stripping off in a hotel room in front of a guy who’s basically drooling over you.
I wish he would though. It’d be so tempting to touch, but all that skin and muscle is worth teasing myself over.
While he’s gone, I grab my laptop and a notebook and set up at the small desk. I slip my reading glasses on as I sign in to the computer and pull up the document with my notes inside.
I hear the bathroom door click open, and Asher comes out wearing sweats and a soft-looking cotton T-shirt. It’s not until he sinks down into the chair beside me that I realize he’s staring at me.
I don’t take my eyes off the screen when I say, “You do that a lot.”
“What?”
“Stare.”
“Says the guy who was just checking me out.”
“There’s a difference.” I meet his eyes. “You know why I’m staring.”
“You want to know why I am?”
“Obviously.”
“You wear glasses.”
My eyebrows crease with confusion. “You’re staring because I wear glasses? I can take them off, but then I can’t read shit.”
“No, no.” He clears his throat, but his voice comes out rough. “Leave them on.”
“Oh.” I smile and lean in closer. “You’re staring because you like them.”
“And now you know what I look like when I’m checking you out.”
Asher’s lips are right there, all tempting and plump, asking to be nipped and—
Shit. How does he manage to get under my skin so damn easily?
Asher knows he’s driving me crazy. Still taunting me with his flirting.