Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
I whirl around, my upper lip curled. “Oh, come on! Be serious, Parker.”
“I am being serious,” he insists, but his eyes are dancing as he adds, “you refused to date me, woman. That shows a disturbing lack of judgment. I don’t know how deep that goes, so… Figured I was better off safe than sorry.”
Fighting a grin, I say, “Fine. Anything else?”
“Yes, I would like to request that we both keep shirts and pants on in common areas,” he adds as I turn back to start the final crepe. “And that hugging procedures only be instigated while fully clothed.”
“Hugging procedures?” I echo. “And why would we need to be hugging?”
He huffs like I’ve suggested we both stop breathing. “Because I’m a hugger? Because hugs lower cortisol and boost heart health? Because denying yourself physical connection with other human beings is torture, and I’m not about that torture life?”
“You’re dramatic before coffee.” I flip off the burner and start plating, quickly putting together a large serving for him and a smaller one for me.
“I’m dramatic all the time. You should know that by now. So, are you on board or not?”
I turn, plates in hand. “Fine. But only before five o’clock and when we’re both stone cold sober.”
He arches a brow. “What am I? A gremlin?”
“No,” I say, setting his crepes down in front of him. “I’m totally open to feeding you after midnight, just not hugging you.”
“Because you’re afraid you’ll have a moment of weakness and beg me to kiss you again?” he asks as I slide into the seat next to his. “Please say yes. My knee hurts, and knowing you’re struggling to resist my sexy bod will make it feel better.”
Rolling my eyes, I say, “Fine. Yes. Whatever. Now eat up before they get cold.”
We eat in silence for a moment. But only a moment before Parker starts grunting.
And moaning.
And making other sexually charged eating sounds that have my nipples tingling again, long before his plate is clean.
“Fuck, those were incredible, Mack,” he says, finally using his words. “Like, change-your-religion good. Seriously.”
“Thanks. I suspected you might be enjoying them,” I say dryly. “What with all the grunting…”
“Don’t even try to grunt shame me,” he says cheerfully. “I grunt when my mouth is happy. Can’t stop, won’t stop. So, what’s your plan for today?”
I sigh, the fun going out of the morning as reality sets in. “I’m not sure. I haven’t gotten that far yet, but I probably need to contact the insurance company. File a claim. Call my landlord. Make sure the people who would worry if they thought I was dead know that I’m alive.” I stab the last blackberry in my curd. “Fun things like that. What about you?”
“Same-ish,” he says, echoing my sigh. “Need to call Coach. Team doctor. Probably my parents. It’ll give them something to be pissed about aside from their divorce proceedings.”
I blink. “That’s still going on?”
“Oh yeah. They’re dragging it out like it’s their job. If I didn’t know better, I’d think litigation was their mutual kink. But they don’t have any of those. Just mutual rage.” He shifts in his chair, wincing. “Speaking of rage, my knee is pissed. I’m going to grab a couple of ibuprofen before I even try to get dressed.”
“Need help getting back to your room before I clean up in here?”
“Yeah, a little help would be good. Thanks.” He stands, and I slide under his arm, adjusting my grip on his waist, trying not to think about how solid he feels.
How delicious. How tempting…
It’s good that we made roommate rules.
And really good that we agreed to no hugging while intoxicated. I can barely resist Parker when I’m stone cold sober, let alone after a drink or two.
When we reach his door, he rests a hand on the doorframe. “I can make it from here.”
“You sure?”
He nods. “Yeah. Thanks for breakfast.” He smiles down at me, the warmth in his gaze making my stomach flip. “I’m glad you’re here. At least we won’t have to deal with the flood fallout alone.”
I nod, tummy still fluttering. “Yeah. It’s a lot. I really hope your knee is okay.”
“Me, too.” He reaches out, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear, the feel of his fingertips on my bare skin enough to make me tingle all over. “I’m dreading this phone call, though. And the doctor visit. And…everything else.”
The vulnerability in his voice makes my chest ache. “I bet. I’m dreading mine, and I don’t have nearly as much on the line.”
“Yes, you do,” he says, his hand falling to his side. “Your career’s on the line, too. I get that. I mean, you haven’t peaked at twenty-seven, but it won’t be easy starting over.”
I shake my head. “You haven’t peaked. You’ve still got a long, amazing career ahead of you.” I pray it’s true.