Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 116231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
I sit in the seat next to the window with Kirby sitting in the seat in front of me and Jaxon on the opposite side of me, against the other window. My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I take it out and look down to see I have an email from Kylie. My pulse speeds up as I sit down and nervously open it. I’m not sure what I’m expecting. I mean, the last thing she texted me was that it could have been anyone, four days ago. We left the next day after the game, so I haven’t had time to message her back.
I’m lying, that’s a complete and utter lie. I’ve had plenty of chances to text her back. I just haven’t because I don’t know what to say. It’s better this way. We had our fun and now we move past it.
I swipe the email thread and my chest gets tight when I read the first line.
Good afternoon, Knox. So formal, like I didn’t have my face buried in her pussy and she didn’t choke on my cock a few days ago.
Just doing a follow up on the previous email I sent you last week. You know, the week before you came over to my house and fucked my brains out on my couch.
You won four prizes. Because you’re a fucking idiot and bid on all of them.
First prize is:
A weekend getaway for two, off the grid. Great, a chance for me and myself to spend more time alone.
Second prize is:
A spa weekend for two at the Beverly Willshire Hotel, including a suite for one night. Maybe I can take the kids with me, minus the spa, and we can just chill. Go to the pool and play.
Third prize is:
A round of golf at the prestigious golf club in Arizona. When the fuck am I going to go and redeem that one? It’s fine, I’ll just donate it to the team for their fundraiser.
Fourth prize:
A romantic dinner for two overlooking the coast, including a one-night stay. Even better, I can jump off the cliff afterward.
She writes the total amount I owe and gives me the option to pay it online. I click the link and it takes me to a checkout, and I enter my credit card.
“Finding yourself a mail order bride?” Jaxon teases from his side of the plane then laughs at himself, and I flip him the bird.
He gets up and sits next to me. “Why?” I ask him. “You sit by yourself and let me sit by myself. You are in my bubble, and I don’t want you in it.”
He laughs and he’s about to get up when two rookies come in and sit down in the empty seats beside us. I glare at him, then at the rookies. “Now see what you did?”
“Would you two stop bickering?” Kirby grumbles between the seats. “I’m trying to rest.” I hit the seat in front of me, his head bouncing off. “Real mature,” he says to me.
“For someone who had sex not too long ago,” he tosses over his shoulder, “you sure are crabby.”
“I told you that—” I start and Jaxon cuts me off.
“You lied. You one thousand percent got laid the night before.” He snorts. “You were even lighter on your feet.”
“Can you both just fuck off?” I ask them. “I’m tired and when I get back, I have to go and get the kids. Which will mean it’ll be noisy until tonight when I put them to bed.”
The door of the plane closes and the announcement comes on, telling us to stow our belongings because we are taking off. I put my iPad in the seat pocket in front of me and buckle my seat belt as the plane starts moving down the runway. “I want to talk to you about something,” Jaxon says when we are in the air and the flight attendant comes around to take our drink order, as well as if we want chicken or beef.
“No,” I say right away, and he snorts.
“I’m serious,” he tries again, turning and putting his back against the armrest.
“So am I,” I retort and stop talking when the flight attendant hands me a ginger ale and hands Jaxon a glass of sparkling water. I take a sip. “Something just hits with having ginger ale in the airplane.”
Jaxon rolls his eyes at me. “Good to know,” he huffs out. “Anyway, before you say no, I want you to seriously think about it.”
“Are you going to ask me to babysit?” I take another sip of my ginger ale before looking back at him.
“Are you crazy?” His eyebrows are pinched together. “You think I’d leave Jagger with you?’’
“Okay, I’m insulted.” I point at him. “I’m a single father to three kids. You think I’ve never handled a baby before?”