Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24614 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24614 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
The truth is, I have thought about it. I've thought about it incessantly. My laundry is a mess of wet panties and sweaty sheets, and it's entirely his fault.
I think this is how addiction starts. First, your body lights up anytime you get the thing you crave. Then, you get twitchy when you don't get it. Then, before you know it, bam! You can't live without it.
Kingston Monroe is Pavlov'ing me. It's the only explanation for why his name makes me so giddy.
I'll die before I tell my nosy ass sister that I'm losing my mind over the Knights' Most Fuckable—I mean Most Valuable—Player. It's the truth, though. No matter how hard I try, I can't get him out of my head.
"Did you know that your eye twitches when you lie?" Everly asks, her tone conversational.
"No, it doesn't."
"It does. How do you think Mom and Dad always busted us when we were doing something we shouldn't have been doing? All they had to do was ask you and watch your eyes. If the right one started twitching, they knew you were full of shit," she insists. "It's twitching now, by the way."
I slap my hand over my right eye, which makes her cackle.
"I knew it!" she cries, spinning my chair around until I'm facing her. "Spill right now. What is up with you and the phone?"
"Nothing."
"You know I have your passwords."
Crap. I forgot about that.
"Don't you dare hack into my stuff, Everly Grace!"
"Tell me what you're trying to hide, and I won't."
"Fine! Kingston has been messaging me." I slap my hand over my mouth like I just revealed state secrets. I might as well have. She's never going to let this go.
"Well, duh." She crosses her arms, smirking at me. "Are they dirty messages?"
I scowl at her.
"They are, aren't they?"
"I'm not telling you that."
"That's a yes, then." Her smirk grows. "You're into him."
"No, I…" I can't even finish the lie. "He hinted that he might show up here tonight."
"So that's why you're so nervous!"
I shrug helplessly. "We haven't seen each other since the game. I don't even know what to say to him!"
"If you dated like a normal person, you wouldn't have this issue, you know," she says.
I scowl at her again.
"I'm not judging you," she murmurs, holding up her hands. "I grew up the same way you did, dealing with the same type of crap because of Dad. Believe me, I get it. But you never let yourself believe there are decent men out there."
"Because there haven't been."
"There have. You just weren't interested."
She might be right. I don't know. From where I'm sitting, it feels like everyone who's interested in me has an agenda. They never want to date Evie. They want to date Evie Alexander, the Next Big Thing, or Evie Alexander, Kasen's daughter. They want the status, not me.
None of them even takes the time to get to know me. They don't care what I like or don't like, how I grew up, or where my favorite place is. They just want their names linked with mine, like I'm a ladder to climb or a box to check. I don't want to be either. I just want someone who doesn't care about any of that.
It scares me how much it feels like Kingston might be that man…and how much it's going to disappoint me if he's just playing the long con. For the first time, I want this. And I'm afraid that this is some game to him, that he's only interested because I blew him off.
I don't want to be a challenge he has to win or some victory he needs. I just want to be the girl he messages every ridiculous, random thought. I want him to be the shameless, effortlessly charming man who will not stop invading my DMs to tell me about petty arguments with his teammates or about getting mean-mugged by his coach or about how he's so hard he can't stand it because he's looking at my photos. I want him to keep asking me questions—even the wildly inappropriate ones.
I don't feel like a status symbol when he's messaging me. I feel…normal. Ridiculously, beautifully, perfectly normal.
Is it wrong to want to hang on to that?
"You want my advice?" Everly asks, and I know she's going to give it to me whether I agree or not. That's her way. She says what she wants, whenever she wants. "If you want him, go for it. The only person standing in your way is you. For once in your life, get out of your own way and see what happens."
She makes it sound so easy. Hell, maybe it is. I don't know.
I'm halfway through my set when I spot him in the crowd. He's near the front, watching me like he can't look away. His eyes bore into me, burning a hole straight through me.