Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Not in a creepy way, but in the way a big brother or good friend would — to make sure I made it okay, to ensure I was safe.
I debated waving at him through the window when I boarded, but decided to let him think I didn’t notice.
Braden Lock.
What a gentleman.
I wanted to lick him like the inside of an Oreo.
Braden
“Watch this, Uncle Braden!”
Sebastian waved his hands frantically until he was sure he had my attention, and then he was climbing up the yellow slide. Not the stairs that led to the slide. No, the slide itself, going up the way he was supposed to come down.
His tongue jutted out in concentration as he used his feet and hands to wedge himself and slowly crawl. He grunted and giggled the higher he got, letting out a full-on belly laugh when he almost made it to the top before losing his footing and sliding back down. The kid landed in the wood chips at the bottom with a thunk and another loud laugh.
“Wow, now that’s impressive,” I remarked, smirking at him as he hopped up and dusted off his jeans. “Bet you can’t make it across the monkey bars, though.”
“Can, too!” he argued, and then he sprinted off in their direction, climbing up the platform and leaping onto the first bar. He hung by both hands, swinging his little body until he had enough momentum to let go with his left hand and reach for the next wrung. I was glad he was content to play by himself, because after just a half hour of chasing him around the playground, I was already beat.
Babysitting a seven-year-old was better stamina training than any offseason drills our staff could conjure up.
It was a perfect spring day in Seattle, the kind that could fool you into thinking summer was closer than it really was. The morning had been a crisp forty-five degrees, but now, it was sunny and seventy-two.
My best friend, Kyle Robbins, and his fiancée Madelyn had brought home their brand-new baby girl from the hospital a couple days ago. I didn’t have any kids of my own, but I knew from our other friends’ experiences how hard the first couple of weeks with a newborn could be, and how any help was appreciated.
So, I’d brought over a week full of pre-made meals, helped clean around the house, and offered to take their oldest, Sebastian, to the park.
Not that Kyle and Mads really needed that much help. Kyle’s rookie contract with the Seahawks had been a fat one compared to mine, and he had hired help to do everything around the house — clean, cook, mow the lawn, etc.
Still, I liked to help. It was how I showed I cared about that cocky bastard.
Besides, Sebastian was the easiest kid to watch over. In fact, he was more fun to hang out with than most of my teammates.
And, at least, he didn’t rib me about the new cheerleader.
Emily Huxley.
Just the thought of her name had a visual dancing in my mind. A blink, and I remembered her lean brown legs and tight, toned stomach. Another blink, and I saw that daring smirk, that twinkle of challenge in her dark eyes.
It had been a couple weeks now, but I could still remember how she’d looked in the soft light outside the stadium that night when she toed the line between us, could still feel her fingernails sliding into the hair at the nape of my neck and gripping just tight enough to make my cock react.
I’d never had to use so much restraint in my life.
It had been impossible to shake this girl since that night. Not that I sat around thinking about her by any means — I had other shit on my plate. But almost every day, she’d sneak her way into my thoughts. I’d be in the shower and remember her smoky laugh. I’d be on a run and recall the confident way she toyed with me, how she was begging me to play back. A random girl in a coffee shop with jet black hair would have me turning my head in a double take, wondering if it was her.
Emily was the kind of girl who sank her claws into your flesh and planted roots.
And she’d certainly broken the skin with me.
Even so, I wasn’t sure how I felt about her. She was a knockout, that was easy enough to decipher. She was obviously a talented dancer, since she’d made the team. She was a confident and alluring woman.
But she was also a menace.
She’d made a scene when I gave her the rose at the audition — a scene my teammates were likely never going to let me live down. And to top it off, I’d caught her smoking a joint outside the stadium at the end of the night like some fucking high schooler.