Tag (Game of Crows #1) Read Online Natalie Bennett

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, College, Dark, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Game of Crows Series by Natalie Bennett
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Total pages in book: 186
Estimated words: 176552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 883(@200wpm)___ 706(@250wpm)___ 589(@300wpm)
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1021

You looked good tonight, Golden Boy.

What the fuck?

I huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking my head. Cute. Real fucking original. Ignoring the message for now, I stepped out of the truck and made my way to where Brooke was waiting for me. My brother had already gone inside, and as we walked through the foyer, the low hum of conversation spilled into the entry hall from the living room. I walked a little further and spotted Nick sprawling across one end of the couch, phone in hand. The usual pre-food debate was already in full swing. He gave me a lazy chin lift before addressing the others.

“Are we doing pizza or wings?”

“Both,” Xander replied, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and muting Scarface with a flick of the remote. “I’m starving.”

“We can order both,” Rook agreed, flipping through menus on his phone. “But make sure we get those garlic knots.”

Cade, sitting beside him, added a drink order and didn’t miss including mine.

“You wanna throw anything else in, Ryder?” Nick asked, barely glancing up.

“Nah, looks like you’ve got it handled without me. For once.”

He smirked. “Try not to cry about it.”

I laughed, glancing down when I felt a soft tug on my fingers.

“Hey,” Brooke murmured, “Can we take my bag upstairs?”

Judging by the expression on her face and basic context clues, she had something she wanted to talk about, and preferably not in front of the others.

“Come on.”

She slipped her hand into mine, and I turned toward the stairs, calling over my shoulder, “I’ll be down in a few.”

Nick leaned forward, grinning now. “Only a few? Come on, man, you can do better than that.”

Xander shook his head with an exaggerated sigh. “Disappointing. My boy, I expected more from you.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Their laughter trailed all the way up and down the hall behind us, muffled by my bedroom door as it clicked shut. Brooke’s cheeks were flushed, her steps just a little too close, like she thought proximity could mask the real reason she followed me here. When we reached my room, she stepped inside with the air of someone trying to make something unfamiliar, we both knew it wasn’t. She’d been in and out of this room enough times. She dropped her bag by the dresser with a rehearsed casualness people use when they’re stalling, then turned slowly like she was psyching herself up for a performance. I knew what was coming before she opened her mouth.

Call it instinct. Or maybe just the quiet curse of always reading people before they wanted to be read. Her shift in tone, the hesitation in her eyes, it was all there. A script I’d seen too many times in too many forms. She started and then hesitated again. Another tell.

“Did something… happen with you and Sanjana?” she asked finally, timidly, like she already regretted the question.

Yes, but before you.

I kept my tone mild. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged, not fully committed to the motion. “I saw you on the field earlier. You grabbed her. It just felt like—.” She cut herself off, not ready to finish the thought.

“When I stopped her from falling?” I offered, tilting my head just enough to seem confused, not defensive.

She nodded, eyes drifting toward my window like it might give her the answer she wasn’t getting from me. I should’ve known this would happen eventually. One of the best things about Brooke was that she never questioned what I had with Sanjana. At least this wasn’t starting with her screaming or throwing shit. I’d dealt with that kind of melodrama enough from girls I never touched or entertained with more than a few friendly words.

I studied this pretty blonde standing in my room, looking up at me with feelings I could never return. No part of me wanted her long-term. I wouldn’t have gone this far at all if I didn’t need to ensure this ended without any blowback on my girl. In the meantime, it wasn’t exactly painful watching Sanj squirm and come to hate the flimsy, friend-shaped label she kept slapping over something that had long since bled into more.

It wasn’t my intention to hurt her, ever, but I still wondered if seeing me with someone else made her feel a fraction of the gut-splitting agony I felt every time I had to watch her with that fairy-boy. Jealousy. Rage. Giving me a sickness that crawled under my skin that only she could take away. For years, I played my part. I was patient and restrained, tethering her to me with invisible strings. I let her believe we could keep this thing between us safe. Let her pretend it was still just friendship. She was the one who shattered that boundary before I could. Then she tried to act like we could simply go back to normal. You know what I decided?


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