Total pages in book: 186
Estimated words: 176552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 883(@200wpm)___ 706(@250wpm)___ 589(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 883(@200wpm)___ 706(@250wpm)___ 589(@300wpm)
“Hi, guys.”
Nick was the first to reply, catching my eye with a lazy grin. His usual laid-back style was in full effect. His signature beanie instead of one of his caps. A hoodie beneath his letterman jacket that resembled Ryder’s, black and silver with the Crowsfell crest stitched across the chest and his team number embroidered. The heavy fabric stretched over his broad shoulders, the sleeves pushed up just enough to show a glimpse of the ink he had on his left arm.
It wasn’t hard to see why girls loved him.
Besides the fact that even in a crowd, Nick had a magnetism that made it impossible not to notice when he walked into a room, he had an effortless model-off-duty appearance. He was an inch or two taller than Ryder, and a little less muscular but still built. He had flawless light-brown skin and defined features with a jaw that could cut glass.
He was sporting a faint bruise this morning. One he had to of gotten either right before or after hockey practice, because he didn’t have it when I saw him earlier in the day.
“Morning, Sanj.”
“Morning, Captain,” I shot back.
His smile turned boyish, and I let it go without teasing. He’d earned his position on the hockey team fair and square. I loved seeing how proud that made him. Nick had been around since I was still in pull-ups. His parents brought him over to play one day, and it felt like he never left. He was the first of Ryder and Cade’s friends outside our trio that I got to know.
I glanced around, noting the absence of one particular Voss brother and Rook. “Where’s Cade and Rook?”
“Rook ran back to the house for something,” Cloe answered, adjusting the strap of her oversized bag that looked more like a briefcase. “And Cade had an early meeting with a peer.”
She said it with so much sarcasm I didn’t need a translator. I could read between the lines.
Roxxi scoffed. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”
“It’s important to exercise the brain,” Xander reasoned, still scrolling through his phone.
Xander was all clean lines and easy confidence. With buzzed dark hair, a warm tan complexion, and cheekbones to die for, he had a way of pulling attention without asking for it. His small earrings and the silver chain resting against the collar of his crewneck sweatshirt added just enough edge to his laid-back, minimalist style. Xan was quieter than the other guys, but not in a broody-mysterious way like Rook.
With Xan, it was more like his brain never stopped moving, always turning over details, patterns, angles no one else noticed. He spent so much time in his head that it felt like he sometimes forgot the rest of us were even there. He was a tech genius with a sense of humor as quick as his mind, sharp and unexpected. And, of course, an amazing athlete, though he'd never understand why people cared so much about the social side of it. Small talk wasn't really his thing; he'd rather watch from the edge, cataloging everything like he couldn't help it.
“That’s gross. Men are gross,” Ari grumbled, wrinkling her nose.
“Hey, not all of us,” Ashton protested.
Xander lifted his dark eyes to my boyfriend. “For once, me and D-W agree on something.”
“D-W?” Ashton questioned.
Xander didn’t respond. I didn’t know what that meant either. Based on the look Ryder and Nick shared, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
“She speaks the truth,” Roxxi stated as she stretched.
The motion caused her top to lift. Nick’s eyes zeroed in on her ass, which, to be fair, looked incredible in those leggings.
“Really?” I shot him a flat look.
Xander snickered, and Nick shrugged, unbothered as ever. “Like you haven’t stared.”
I had. Obviously. Best friend privileges allowed that, and Roxxi had never been shy about showing off what she had. She caught the exchange, rolling her eyes with a mix of exasperation and amusement.
“You’ve got no shame, Blackwell.”
Nick grinned. “If I did, I wouldn’t make half my life choices, and where’s the fun in that?”
“I can only imagine.”
“Alright, you two can flirt later. Can we go now before we’re late, please?” Cloe cut in, hands on her hips like she was about to corral a bunch of unruly toddlers.
All five feet of her were sass and sharp wit. Over time, she’d become the one to keep us all in line, a role that fit seamlessly with her personality. She dressed the part, too, like she could walk straight into a courtroom or a boardroom and crush both without breaking a sweat. Today was no exception. A sleek pair of reading glasses perched on her nose, giving her an extra air of authority. She’d taken out her box braids the night prior and now wore her long, thick hair in a flawless bun, every strand slicked back and secured without a single flyaway.