Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“What are they yacking about over there?” Sloane asks.
We’re currently sitting under the warm spring sun. The pool water is heated, but we’ve not been swimming yet. Instead, we’re soaking up some much-needed Vitamin D.
“They’re killing my mood,” she grumbles.
“What mood is that?” I ask her.
“Calm. Zen,” Sloane says, sounding half asleep.
“I think they’re talking about football. Knox mentioned a trade earlier, so if I had to guess, they’re gossiping about that,” Corie explains.
“And they say women are bad,” Sloane scoffs. “Those five are worse than my grandma and her quilt-making buddies. They gossip all the time.”
Corie and I laugh. She’s not wrong. I’ve been around them for a while now, and I've noticed that the guys like to gossip. Landry seems to lead the pack, with Reid coming in at a close second.
“They get it from Harry,” Corie adds. “That man and my brother know everything about everything. It’s annoying.”
“Yeah, but they didn’t know about you and Knox.” I peek open my eyes just in time to see Sloane, with her eyes closed, holding her fist out to Corie to bump knuckles.
“They did not. Knox and I should get a medal or something for being able to dupe them.” Corie snickers.
“You definitely snuck one past them,” Sloane agrees. “Their bellies are full. They should be napping or something,” Sloane says when the guys' laughter carries over to us.
“Maybe we should go see what the fuss is about?” I suggest.
“You know what? We might as well,” Corie says. “This one is going to keep complaining about the noise, and I’ll admit I’m nosy.” She chuckles.
“You two go on. Tell them to keep it down, would ya?” Sloane asks. “I’ve earned this downtime. This last month of school has been brutal. The kids were over it, and to be honest, so was I. I know that sounds bad, but you try wrangling twenty rambunctious four-year-olds every day. It’s… a lot,” she says with a heavy exhale.
“You sit right there and soak up the sun,” Corie tells her. She nods to me, and I stand with her as we walk to the other side of the pool, where the guys are sitting under a huge umbrella.
There’s one open seat next to Landry, and Knox pulls Corie onto his lap, making the decision easy.
“What’s going on over here?” Corie asks.
“Just talking about a trade that was announced today,” Knox tells her.
“Yeah? Good or bad?” she asks.
“None of us know him, but he’s got a rep for being an asshole. I guess he requested to come to Nashville. No one knows why, but he took a pay cut to be here,” Knox explains.
“Because you’re the league champs. Of course he wants to play with a winning team. Who wouldn’t?” Corie replies.
“Who is it?” I ask. As an assistant physical therapist for the Rampage, I’ll be working with him, too, and call me nosy as well. I’m definitely curious. Also, there is this slight shimmer of worry that it might be him. Even though I know he loves Los Angeles and the fame he has there.
“Chaz Brown, a cornerback from Los Angeles,” Baker tells me.
Instantly, my body freezes. My heart starts racing, and I can feel my vision blurring. I force air into my lungs and will myself to calm down. I’m hearing things, right? He didn’t really say his name.
“W-Who?” I manage to squeak out.
“Chaz Brown,” Knox says slowly.
I shake my head. “No. No. This can’t be happening.” My breathing is labored, and I can feel it coming on—a panic attack.
“Hey,” a soothing voice murmurs. I feel pressure on my thigh and blink hard once, twice, three times to see it’s Landry’s hand. “You’re okay,” he says softly. “Just breathe in like this.” He takes in a slow, deep breath and then exhales just as slowly. “Match me, Roe, you can do it,” he says calmly. “Eyes on me,” he says, his tone soothing yet commanding.
I do what he says, keeping my eyes on him and matching my breathing to his. It takes a few pulls of air into my lungs before I feel my body start to settle.
“There she is,” he says softly. His hand is still resting on my thigh, and his gorgeous green eyes are full of concern. “You’re okay,” he tells me.
Closing my eyes, I will the ground to swallow me whole. I’m so embarrassed. Just when I found people—friends who were here for me—I go and have a panic attack over hearing a name. His name.
“Here. Take a drink.” He twists the cap off a bottle of water and hands it to me.
My hands tremble as I take a slow sip, then another. Landry reaches over and pushes my hair off my face. I’m sweating profusely, and I can only imagine what I look like. “Thank you,” I manage to push the words past my lips after another few sips of water.