O Line (The New York Nighthawks #3) Read Online Fiona Davenport

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Insta-Love, Romance, Sports, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: The New York Nighthawks Series by Fiona Davenport
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Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28024 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
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“Yup,” Jordan agreed, not seeming the slightest bit concerned about his friend. “The sooner, the better.”

“Whoa, hold on a second.” I stared up at Jordan with wide eyes. “You can’t just kick Clay out because of me. Two weeks is nothing. We can wait. There’s really no rush.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, baby.” Jordan lowered his mouth to my ear and rasped, “No way in hell can I wait that long to have you all to myself, and there’s no fucking chance I’m gonna take you with him nearby, able to hear how you scream for me when you come.”

My cheeks filled with heat as I realized he was right. I hadn’t been quiet last night and would’ve been horribly embarrassed to discover that Clay had been down the hall while Jordan had given me all those mind-blowing orgasms. But I still felt guilty for being the reason he was displaced, even if it was only for a couple of weeks.

Driven by the need to make it up to him, I suggested, “If I’m going to be spending some of my free time at Jordan’s, then maybe you could crash in my room instead of a hotel. I’m sure my roommate won’t mind.”

“I wouldn’t want to be a bother. I’ll be fine at a hotel,” Clay insisted. “Like you said, two weeks is nothing.”

“Not some of your free time, all,” Jordan corrected.

“Most of my free time,” I conceded, spearing him with a look. “But only if Clay agrees to stay at my place while I’m at yours.”

“It’s decided. You’re moving into Wrenley and Marleigh’s apartment tonight,” Jordan announced, his tone making it clear he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

10

Jordan

“Welcome!” My mom’s smile was giant as she ushered us inside their Park Avenue apartment. She pulled Wrenley in for a hug before giving me one as well. I could have sworn mine was less enthusiastic. Then again, I couldn’t blame her for being more excited to see my girl. She was fucking amazing.

I’d loved spending all my free time with Wrenley the past couple of weeks. If I hadn’t already been one-hundred-percent sure that she was meant to be mine, I would definitely be convinced by now.

“I’m so happy you could come to dinner! It feels like it’s been forever since the gala, and I didn’t even get to spend much time with you before Jordan whisked you away.”

Wrenley’s cheeks turned pink, and I suppressed a smirk because I knew she was thinking about why we’d left in such a hurry—and never returned.

My mom put her arm around my girl’s shoulder, rolled her eyes at my irritated growl, and guided her toward the kitchen.

“You get her all the time, Jordan, and I know I taught you to share when you were little.”

Wrenley snorted and glanced back at me, clearly amused as my lips involuntarily turned down into a petulant pout.

She laughed and turned her head back to face my mom. “He’s only terrible at sharing me.”

My mom snickered and shook her head. “That he learned from his father. A couple of Neanderthals.”

“Hey,” I grumbled. “I’m right here.”

Both women giggled as we entered the kitchen and went to sit at the table in the eating nook.

My dad was pulling a tray of biscuits out of the oven and glanced at them before looking at me and grinning. “Talking about you?” he guessed.

“And you.”

“Ah,” he laughed. “Just a couple of cavemen, aren’t we?”

I couldn’t help chuckling in return. “Apparently.”

Dinner was ready to go, so I helped my dad take the last of the food to the table in the dining room. Growing up, we’d only used it when we had company since it was bigger than the kitchen nook.

As my mom and Wrenley walked in, my girl looked around, and her brow furrowed. She leaned in and went up on her tiptoes to speak in my ear. “They didn’t have to go through all this trouble for me. I would have been fine at the kitchen table.”

My mom laughed, obviously having heard her. “First of all, Wrenley. Even though I already consider you family, you are still important company, and that means we eat in the dining room. Second, you’ve probably noticed that Jordan and his dad are big men, and I’m not exactly dainty.”

My dad’s eyes ran over my mom appreciatively, and he muttered, “Thank fuck for that,” making me groan and Wrenley giggle.

“Gross, Dad,” I grumbled. I didn’t care how old I was. Thinking or hearing about my parents’—shudder—sex life would always be a “no-go” area.

My mom’s cheeks turned pink, and her smile grew. “Anyway, between the three of us, it eventually became too small of a space for us to eat more than a snack, or maybe brunch together.” Her expression turned smug, and she smirked. “So Brad had to pay me one-hundred dollars because when we renovated this place right after we bought it, he insisted that we’d never use a formal dining room.”



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