Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
“No,” I say, choosing my words carefully…walking that thin line that keeps me on the side of truth without revealing too much. “I didn’t even know she was going to be there. And if you weren’t an overprotective asshole, she’d be a whole helluva lot more willing to tell you that she wants the same thing I do. She’s scared of upsetting you, man.”
“So it’s my fault you two are sneaking around?” he growls.
“We aren’t sneaking around!” I snap. “I’m telling you plainly that your sister is mine. And I’m hoping you won’t be a dick and make her feel guilty about it because your opinion still matters to her just as much as it did when she was laying in the hospital bed when she was ten.”
“I don’t want you anywhere near her.”
I grit my teeth, trying not to lose my patience with him. “Respectfully, it’s not your choice. It’s hers. I’ll be letting her make it, not you.”
He mutters a curse, snatching his water bottle from the bench to take a big drink. His eyes linger on me, full of anger. But there’s something else there too. Hesitation. “She told you about her accident?”
I jerk my chin in a nod.
“Did she tell you how it happened?”
“Yeah. She told me.”
“Motherfucker.” He tosses the bottle, looking like he wants to hit something. But I don’t think he’s pissed at me right now. He’s pissed at the past and the memory of almost losing his baby sister. He’s mad as hell that he wasn’t there to protect her…and he’s fucking worried that this will end the same way, with her hurt and him feeling helpless. But he should know me better than that by now. I’m not like River. I never have been. And in my whole goddamn life, I’ve never felt this way about anyone.
“She’s safe with me, man.”
He grunts wordlessly.
“You know she is.”
“Fine. Whatever. Do whatever the fuck you want, Archer.” He throws his hands up, staring at me like he wants to hit me. “She’s smart enough to tell your stupid ass no without me helping her along.”
“She isn’t going to say no.”
“We’ll see.”
“Guess we will,” I sigh as he leaps over the board, storming across the ice like he’d rather be anywhere but standing here talking to me about Wren.
Fucking hell. He’s stubborn. I can’t even be mad at him about it though. She’s his sister, and he’s already almost lost her once. If I were in his shoes? Well, not a single fucking member of this team would get close to her.
“Graves!” Coach shouts. “You going to hold court on the damn bench all morning, or are you going to get out here and act like you have a game to win?”
I haul myself from the bench with a sigh. I’d rather be back in bed with my wife right now.
Chapter Eight
Wren
“You have a visitor.”
I glance up from the paperwork on my desk to see Laura standing in my doorway, grinning from ear to ear.
“Is it Micah?” I ask, slightly worried about seeing him. He’s called me three times today, but I ignored every call. I don’t know what to say to him. He’s the one person I’ve always been able to tell anything. Now, I’m keeping something from him. It feels wrong and weird.
“Nope. This one is even hotter than your brother. I think he’s one of his teammates?”
Archer.
A thrill goes through me, turning me inside out and upside down. Lord. If he knew what he was capable of doing to me…
“Can you show him back here, please?” I ask Laura, ignoring the question in her eyes. I’m not prepared to explain to the biggest gossip in my office why my brother’s captain is here to see me. She’ll tell everyone. And someone will inevitably blab to Micah. Then boom. World explosion.
I already feel like our secret is a ticking bomb counting down toward detonation. No sense being the one who sets off the explosion.
“Yeah, I’ll show him back,” she says, a touch of disappointment in her voice as she turns, hurrying off.
I quickly comb my finger through my hair and then straighten my top, trying to pretend my heart isn’t racing a million miles a minute. It’s a ridiculous feeling when I spent all night in his bed. When he spent half of it inside me. But I’m nervous anyway.
Right up until he appears in the doorway, his hair damp, his cerulean eyes as bright as ever. God, he looks good. His T-shirt stretches across the muscles in his chest, clinging in a way that makes my fingers itch to trace every line.
I had my hands and mouth all over that body last night.
It still doesn’t feel like real life. But if I wake up and this is all a dream…I might actually cry this time.