Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 95951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
“So you’re telling me that he takes his position as captain seriously.”
“Is there a stronger word for serious?” he asks.
“That bad?”
“Nah, he rides our asses because we do stupid shit. By we, I mean me, Montgomery, Sinclair, and Vaughn. Beckett keeps us in line.”
I’m thankful that I’m a fan of the Rampage; otherwise, it would be hard for me to keep up when he uses their last names like that. They go back and forth, but it’s a typical conversation for us.
“Ah, I get what you’re trying to tell me.” I’m setting him up, but he doesn’t even realize it.
“What’s that?”
“That you’re living it up a little too much, and you’re depending on Knox Beckett, your quarterback, team captain, and best friend, to keep your asses in line.” I raise my eyebrows, daring him to deny it.
“Pretty much.” He laughs. “It’s not like we’re going hog wild or anything, but Knox, he’s on another level. He lives and breathes the game. He rarely strays from his regimen of working out and eating as the trainers and nutritionists tell us to. He’s got willpower unlike anything I’ve ever seen before in my life. The man can resist anything if they tell him to. It’s not human.”
“Stop.” I push at his arm, and we laugh. “He’s human.” Then again, maybe that’s why he’s so damn sexy. It’s not human for a man to look that good.
“You can hang out with Sloane and me,” I offer.
“Thanks. Knox is coming over. We’re going to watch some game tape.”
“Already?”
“Yeah. The schedule’s out, so we already know who the first game of the regular season will be. Not sure if we’ll play much during preseason, so we’ll go straight to the first team that counts and study our opponent.”
“You’re a lot like him. I think you all are. You, Reid, Baker, and Foster might be a little more relaxed, but all five of you are dedicated to the game and being the best you can be. That must be why the five of you are so close.”
“When you live, eat, and breathe with a group as much as we do, it’s hard not to get close. Besides, it shows on the field, too. We’re the dream team, baby.”
“Careful, big brother, that ego of yours is showing.”
He stands and stretches. “It’s not ego if it’s facts. What time is Sloane going to be here?”
“She’s on her way now.”
“Knox won’t be far behind. I’m going to run out and pick up dinner. I’m going to get Chinese. Do you know what Sloane likes?”
“We were going to cook dinner,” I tell him.
He waves his hand in the air. “Take the night off. Besides, I know Chinese is one of your favorites. Tell me what to order so I don’t mess it up,” he tells me.
Accepting defeat, I rattle off her order and mine, which is the same thing—sweet and sour chicken. “Thank you, Landry.”
“I got you.” He winks. “If Knox shows up, keep him company until I return with the food. Don’t be alarmed if he comes on in. We do that at each other’s places, but I’ll talk to the guys now that you’re back home and let them know they need to knock.”
“Don’t do that on my account. It’s not as if I’ll be roaming the halls naked.”
Landry shudders at the thought, making me laugh. “Yeah, let’s not do that.”
“Be safe,” I tell him, enjoying his discomfort. I’ve missed having time like this with him. Mom passed away, and within a few months, I was moving to college. Our normal, or what used to be our normal, is no longer relevant to us. We’re both adults now, and now that I’ve spent more than a few days with him, I realize how much I’ve missed him. I missed the sense of feeling like I’m home. This house doesn’t feel like home, but being around my brother, that’s as close as I’m ever going to get to that again.
Closing my eyes, I rest my head against the lounger and again soak up the feeling of the sun's rays shining down on me. However, that feeling doesn’t last as another shadow falls over me.
“You’re blocking my sun,” I tell my best friend without opening my eyes. She doesn’t reply, so I keep going. “I know you’re attracted to me, babe, but I don’t swing that way,” I tell her with a soft laugh.
Coughing starts, followed by a low, deep chuckle. I still and slowly open my eyes. It’s not Sloane standing over me. Not that the low, deep chuckle didn’t already tell me this. Instead, it’s Knox fucking Beckett standing there looking like sex on legs. Seriously. He’s wearing a charcoal-gray fitted shirt that does nothing to hide his defined biceps and abs. He’s in khaki cargo shorts, and his hair is mussed. I imagine it looks like it would if he and someone—not me, because that’s not allowed—would look after a round of sweaty sex.