Change of Possession (The New York Nighthawks #7) Read Online Fiona Davenport

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love, Sports, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: The New York Nighthawks Series by Fiona Davenport
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Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
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“I swear, it wasn’t anything like that.” I yanked my phone out of my purse and held it out toward him. “You can check for yourself. I don’t have his number, and I didn’t give him mine when he asked.”

A muscle jumped in his jaw as he asked, “He asked for your number?”

His nostrils flared, and butterflies swirled in my belly as I wondered if his reaction last night stemmed from jealousy and not just thinking that I was a lying cheater. “Yeah, but I really do think that it was more about him being nice than anything else. The timing of that photo sucks so bad because the kiss on the cheek he gave me was the only thing that could’ve been misconstrued. Other than when I got there and he let me know he’d asked for a seat filler to remain in that spot all night and when I congratulated him on his win, we didn’t even say much to each other all night.”

His chin jutted out, and his eyes narrowed as they scanned my face. “Except for when he walked you around the room and introduced you to everyone, like a good boyfriend would do.”

“Only because he was helping me network.” I tugged on the end of my ponytail, and several pink strands fell against my lips. Blowing out a breath to get them off my mouth, I huffed, “He told everyone I was a student and never called me his girlfriend. Didn’t even hint at a relationship between us of any kind.”

He pushed away from the wall and began to pace back and forth, shooting me a glance from the corner of his eye as he muttered beneath his breath. Even though I didn’t really know Rigby, I felt as though so much was at stake while he tried to decide whether I was telling the truth or not. I had never been attracted to another man the way I was to him. As wild as it sounded, I could too easily picture us having a future together and we’d only talked a grand total of three times—one of which barely counted as a conversation since it had just been him blowing me off.

I practically held my breath while I waited for him to make up his mind. My gaze darted away from him as I took a deep breath in an attempt to settle my nerves. I couldn’t help but take in our surroundings and think that the set had been well staged for our conversation. The sun was setting and the corner he’d led me to was dark because it was in the shadow of the stadium. There was a brick wall blocking us from the view of the guard and any of Rigby’s teammates as they headed to their cars—and the darn paparazzi who were camped out in the lot with their cameras aimed at the exit to catch photos of the players.

If Rigby decided that he couldn’t trust me, I was sorely tempted to go over there and give them a piece of my mind. But that wouldn’t accomplish anything besides embarrassing me even more since I was sure they’d take pictures of me yelling and make up another story once they recognized me as the woman in the photos with Gustavo. I’d done my best to stay out of their line of sight while I was waiting for Rigby to come out of the stadium, but my luck could only hold for so long.

Heaving a deep sigh, I turned back toward Rigby and braced myself for his verdict. He was staring at me with an odd gleam in his eyes that I couldn’t quite figure out. “How did you get here?”

My stomach clenched as my breath hitched in disappointment. I’d tried my best, but that darn story with the photo painted a picture that was difficult to defend against. Shoulders slumping, I whispered, “I didn’t want to waste time changing buses since I wasn’t sure what time you’d be done with practice, so I took a rideshare.”

He wrapped his fingers around my wrist and led me out of our hiding spot and into the fading light.

“Get in my truck.” He jerked his chin toward a black Ford F150 Raptor. “I want privacy for the rest of this conversation.”

I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. It could just be that he wanted to yell at me but didn’t want to do it where anyone might overhear. Or even worse, catch it on camera. “Where do you want to go?”

“My place.”

Rigby had a reputation for being private. No way would he bring me to his home unless he believed my explanation. My eyes filled with tears as relief coursed through my system. Nodding, I walked over to the passenger side and said, “Your place sounds perfect to me.”


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