Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
It hits me that I don’t need to win the tournament anymore because I’ve found Ciara. She’s sitting right beside me. However, she needs the money.
I plan to win and hand it over to her. She can pay off her brother’s tuition and stash money for his college fund. I plan to make sure money isn’t something she ever has to worry about again.
“I love the way you look at her. She does so much for her brother, but I would love to see her do something for herself. You know what I mean?” Daliah suddenly says.
I glance up in the rearview mirror to find her watching me. I grin at her, then focus back on the road as the light changes. We’re not far from their place now.
“I think I do. This is you guys up here to the left, right?”
“Yup, that’s us.”
Lucky, I find a parking spot and pull my car in before I climb out and grab my gym bag from the trunk and then move to collect Ciara and her things. As I’m placing my bag across my body, Daliah climbs out of the back seat. I move to open Ciara’s door and Daliah reaches in to take the gym bag from between Ciara’s legs.
I grab the duffel full of money then lift Ciara into my arms. She’s so small in my embrace, but she proved how mighty she is in that ring tonight. My body hardens as her soft one melts into mine.
I try to think of anything but her as we make our way into the building and climb onto the elevator. Lifting my gaze to the ceiling, I begin to count to a hundred. As we ride up, I realize I’m the happiest I’ve been in years.
Daliah starts to snicker in the other corner of the car. Looking at her, I then lift a brow and give her a questioning look. She smiles back at me.
“We could throw a party once we get to the apartment and she’d probably sleep right through it. She hasn’t even so much as stirred,” she laughs out.
I shrug my shoulders. “I’ve waited this long. I’ll be here when she wakes.”
“I’m dying to know what’s going on between you two. Ugh, the suspense is killing me.”
I chuckle. “You’ll have to wait for her to tell you.”
Daliah pouts as the elevator dings and the doors open. She steps out and turns left. I follow her up the hall as she takes her keys out and opens a door in the middle of the hall on the right-hand side.
I take note of the door number as she pushes in and holds the door open for me to follow. Looking around, I take in the apartment and nod. The place is nice.
“You’re the babysitter,” I say to Ross as he stands from the couch and stretches.
“Vega,” we both scoff at the same time.
I give him a nod, letting him know I’ve got it from here. Ross shrugs and begins to collect his things to leave. He looks at a sleeping Ciara in my arms and gives me a questioning look.
“Did she win?”
“She killed it,” Daliah gushes.
“Cool, cool. The kid went to bed thirty minutes ago. He tried to wait up.”
“Thanks. I’ll walk you out,” Daliah says as she bats her lashes at Ross.
Looking down at Ciara, I decide to sit on the couch with her in my arms. I don’t know where her bedroom is, and I don’t want to violate her by undressing her without her permission.
I get the feeling she’s not going to wake anytime soon. Maybe Daliah will help me to change her and get her into bed once she gets back and gets settled in.
“I’ll take care of you, gorgeous. Sleep tight,” I murmur.
CHAPTER 16
For Breakfast
Ciara
Waking from a deep sleep, the scent of bacon and coffee greet me. I stretch and let out a groan as my body fusses at me. As my brain begins to wake, I realize I’m in my bed.
“What the hell?”
I don’t remember coming home, forget about how I got into my sleep shorts and tank top and under the covers. Dylan comes to mind and the last thing I remember is riding in his car with his warm hand on my thigh.
Confused and hungry, I climb from the bed and head to the bathroom to brush my teeth and pee. I’m so hungry, I could kiss Daliah for starting breakfast. However, when I get to the kitchen, I find none other than Dylan, shirtless in a pair of sweatpants, cooking bacon and eggs.
“Hey Cee, Dylan’s making me breakfast for my birthday,” Ciarán sings.
My mouth falls open when Dylan turns to face me. His sweats are hanging low on his hips, and his abs and V are on full display. Quickly, I force my mouth closed.