Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 50801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
I've always been comfortable around him because we have deep sense of trust earned over years of friendship, but ever since he found me stranded at that festival, ever since he moved me into his home and I spent almost every waking minute with him, I've been feeling more and more conflicted. Every previous innocent touch has ignited a deep need in me that I can no longer hide or deny.
And as much as I want to tell them now, there are too many people up here, and the last thing I need is for the rumor mill to start churning out stories about me and my track record with Badgers.
Besides, I keep thinking these feelings will pass. They have to.
“I definitely have no complaints,” I finally say, waving to the few rookies who climb the stairs and join the girls across the way. I've worked on so many of the Badgers, it's a marvel I can remember all their names. “Of course, I'm sure Paxton would have some complaints—”
“Complaints about what?” Paxton’s voice cuts over mine, his smile effortless as he makes his way over to me, plopping down on my right and extending an arm behind me, the move natural and easy.
“About me taking over your space,” I say, unable to ignore the way my heart takes off at his nearness, sending this giddy little sensation bubbling beneath my skin. He looks entirely too good in a pair of light-colored pants and a dark green polo that makes his eyes pop. I've always known exactly how handsome Paxton is, but lately it's been extremely hard to ignore.
Lawson, Nash, and Baylor join our little group, and Nash sets a cardboard box down on the table resting in the middle of our little circle.
“Please,” Paxton says, shaking his head. “You’re the perfect roommate,” he continues. “There's no way I could ever complain.”
Warmth floods my body, his sweet compliments about me completely unearned. “What? You’ve seen my skincare spread all over your guest bathroom, right? There’s barely any counterspace left.”
“First of all, it’s your bathroom while you’re living there.” He shrugs. “Second of all, it doesn’t bother me.”
“I’ve also taken over your pantry.”
“I like the new snacks you’ve stocked it with.”
Goddamn him, why is he so wonderful?
Blakely and Reese are giving me looks that say as much too.
“Done blowing stuff up?” Reese asks Nash, who fiddles with the box.
“Yep,” Nash answers. “Clay told basically told us to fuck off.”
“He did not,” Lawson argues. “He said he was almost out of fireworks, and we could go be with our girls.”
Nash laughs. “Which is basically fuck off in Clay language.”
I laugh, shaking my head. Clay is certainly grumpy, but I know underneath all that he has a huge heart. Anyone can look at the way he cares about the Badgers or the way he is with his adorable niece and know that he’s a secret softy.
“You guys want to try out this new card game we got this weekend?” Nash asks, popping the lid on the cardboard box with black and neon pink writing on it. He gestures to the others that are across the boathouse, and they come over. We all make room, shifting into a circle that almost takes up the entire upper half of Clay's boathouse.
“How do you play?” one of the girls—I’m not sure her name—asks as she situates herself on a chair next to a few of her friends and a couple of the rookies.
Nash settles between Reese and Hadley, Blakely moving to perch on Lawson's lap on the opposite side. Baylor sits next to Lawson, the rest of the group scattered out between us.
Nash takes out the cards, shuffling the massive deck before setting it in the center of the table. “It's super easy,” he explains. “There are different heat levels of cards. Some are tame, some are spicy, some are downright ridiculous,” he continues. “You have to carry out the tasks on the card in order to earn the card and point value attached to it. The first person to get fifty points wins. And you lose points if you decide to pass on a task or go for a lower heat level.”
“Sounds easy enough,” I say. “Are you going to start us off?”
“You know it,” Nash says, plucking a card from the top of the deck. He hesitates a moment, eyeing Hadley on his left. “I reserve the right to close my eyes and cover my ears if you pull a spicy card,” he says.
Hadley rolls her eyes. “I’m a grown woman.”
“You’re my little sister,” he counters, but the two laugh as Nash glances to Reese, who’s siting on his right. He hands her the card without looking at it. “Person to your right reads the card.”
Reese smiles, reading the card silently to herself, a small laugh escaping her before she sets the card down. “You got a mild one,” she says, and Nash snaps his fingers in disappointment. “You have to get up and pretend you're on a fashion runway for the next thirty seconds in front of everybody.”