Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 90009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
She hesitates for a second before her muscles loosen. “I know. It just…”
“Hurts,” I finish for her.
“Yeah. I really didn’t expect it. I never thought Devon was the kind of guy who would sneak around behind my back. All it does is make me question my own judgment, you know?”
For just a heartbeat, I pull her even closer. What I really want to do is hunt the bastard down who hurt her and make him feel just a fraction of the pain he caused a woman who deserved so much more.
Even though the last thing I want to do is set her free, I force my arms to drop and take a step in retreat. “Take your bath, and I’ll figure out dinner.” I pat my belly. “I’m famished.”
Some of the sadness fades as she smirks. “What else is new? You’re always hungry. How you manage to keep your girlish figure, I’ll never know.”
I lift a brow and tease, “So you’ve been checking out my figure, huh?”
A flush creeps into her cheeks as she looks away. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
The words land sharper than I expect.
And yet, I just smile through it like I always do, even as something constricts inside me. Because no matter how many times I tell myself to move on, it’s clear she only sees me as a friend.
Maybe I really am a glutton for punishment. Maybe some part of me would rather stay close and secretly pine for her than walk away from the only woman I’ve ever loved.
I clear my throat, needing to pick up the tattered pieces of my ego and get the hell out of here. “Take as much time as you need. When you’re ready to eat, the food will be waiting.”
“Thanks again, Steele. You’re a good friend.”
And the hits just keep coming.
After ten years, maybe it’s not possible to find my way out of the friend zone.
I disappear into the kitchen to figure out what can be rustled up.
Thirty minutes later, Lilah walks out of the bedroom looking a hell of a lot more relaxed than when she walked into the penthouse. Steam clings to her skin in tiny droplets, and she’s wearing the gray Western Wildcats hockey T-shirt I laid out for her since she doesn’t have a change of clothes. It’s a few sizes too big, hanging off one shoulder as the frayed hem brushes against her thighs.
She tugs at the edge of the worn material. “The sweatpants you left were way too big and kept falling down.”
Well, fuck me.
Not wanting to pop wood, I swallow hard before turning back to the kitchen counter. “Should I grab something else for you?”
“Nah.” There’s a beat of silence before she adds, “As long as you’re good with it.”
“I don’t mind at all,” I murmur. “I can crank up the heat if you get cold.”
“I’m fine,” she says.
“Good.” I force my gaze away from the long stretch of her bare legs. “I, uh, hope you’re hungry.”
She walks closer, stopping at the marble island where I’ve set up two plates with takeout. “Mmm, Chinese. My favorite.”
I nod, satisfied with the spread. “I figured you needed some comfort food. Fried rice, sesame chicken, and eggrolls.”
Her lips press together, and for a second, it looks like she might burst into tears.
Instead, she takes a moment to collect herself before sliding onto the leather stool and picking up her chopsticks.
A comfortable silence falls over us as I work up the nerve to casually float an idea by her. “Not sure if I mentioned it before, but I’ve been thinking of hiring a personal assistant.”
She pauses mid-bite and cocks her head. “Really? I don’t think you did.”
“Yeah,” I say smoothly, grabbing my beer. “We both know I suck at keeping my schedule straight, and Rina has been up my ass about it.” I pause, allowing that to sink in before moving forward with my plan. “I was thinking that maybe you could help me out. Temporarily, of course.”
With narrowed eyes, she sets her chopsticks down on her plate. “Did you just make that up?”
I shake my head. “Of course not. A lot of the guys on the team have them.”
When she swivels toward me, I keep my eyes pinned to hers instead of allowing them to drop to where the cotton T-shirt rides up her thighs, showcasing even more mouthwatering flesh.
It’s not easy.
Especially when an image of dropping to my knees and spreading her legs wide pops into my brain. She can enjoy her sesame chicken and I’ll just—
Fuck.
I shove the thought from my head and refocus on securing her agreement.
A frown tugs at her lips. “Seriously, Steele. You don’t need to jump in and save me. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. And I have some money saved up. I’ll be all right for a few months.”