Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 72(@250wpm)___ 60(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 72(@250wpm)___ 60(@300wpm)
Seraphina
My boss is the hottest coach on the planet.
He's also grumpy, impatient, and—judging by his constant scowl—definitely hates me.
So why did I drunkenly try to MASH my way into a future with him?
No clue.
Good the game failed.
Bad I brought it to work.
Yeah. He found it.
Now, instead of an earthquake swallowing me whole, he's staring at me like he wants to devour me.
Turns out, his bad attitude might be hiding a whole lot of complicated feelings.
I shouldn't want him.
I'm absolutely not falling for him.
At least, that's what I tell myself.
Right up until I can't lie anymore, and the future I swore was just a silly game starts looking dangerously real.
Stone
I've been losing my mind over Seraphina since she started working for me.
Every time she stutters, I want to snap.
Every time she blushes, I want to break.
But she's my employee.
That can't happen.
Until I find her little game.
I thought she hated me.
Turns out, my gorgeous little assistant has been dreaming about me.
She thinks I'm the devil.
I'm about to prove her wrong.
I don't care what MASH predicted.
There's only one future for her.
And it's with me
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Prologue
Seraphina
One Drunken Night…
"This was a great idea." I grin across the table at Ava, who looks like she's ready to vomit. "My future is safe."
"What? Let me see that." Nova snatches the paper from my hands, her eyes narrowing as they scan across it. "You're going to live in a mansion, have one kid, work as a doctor, and marry a guy named Ashton?" She peers at me over the top of the paper. "Who the fuck is Ashton?"
"No clue," I say, beaming at her. "But he isn't my boss, so I don't care." That isn't disappointment, not even an inkling. Nope. At this point, I'd take a swamp troll over Stone Warden. The man is sex on legs. He's also the biggest grouch in existence.
It doesn't matter what I do; in his book, I'm doing it wrong. He spends most days growling at me. The rest of the week, he ignores my existence. When I first started, I thought maybe I'd done something to offend him, but no, that's not it. He just doesn't like me, at least not anywhere except in the fantasies I'll never admit to having.
Honestly, it's his loss. I'm very likable.
If I could strangle him with his whistle, I would. I bet the entire football team would thank me for it. Hell, they'd probably erect a statue in my honor.
"So I'm the only one not getting laid," Ava says, sighing dramatically. "Whoever came up with these games was lame."
"Uh, that was you," Emelia reminds her, glaring at her cootie catcher like she wants to set it on fire. "And I am not getting laid. My vagina isn't going anywhere near Royce Elliot, thank you very much."
"Uh-huh," Nova says, smirking. "We'll see."
I have a feeling we will. She's definitely going to sleep with Royce. And it doesn't matter what Nova decides about Hux. Sooner or later, she'll sleep with him, too. And Ava has lost it if she thinks Dawson isn't in love with her.
But guess what? I won't be sleeping with Stone Warden. Never ever. Ever.
I'm not disappointed. Really, I'm not.
Chapter One
Seraphina
Ten Days Later…
"Seraphina!" Stone shouts through his closed office door. "Get in here."
I stab the save button on my keyboard like it's his eye, sighing heavily. "I need to quit my job."
It's a pervasive fantasy. I march into his office, choke him out with his whistle, and while he's gasping for breath on the floor, I step over his twitching body and peace out. Forever.
Best. Fantasy. Ever.
It's even better than the ones where I march into his office, he bends me over his desk, and then works out all that frustration with his tongue. Let's be honest, though. The statistical odds of me getting murdered by a serial killer are higher than the odds of my boss trying to sleep with me.
They're also probably higher than the odds of me actually quitting. I actually love my job, even if Stone does drive me nuts some days. Everyone here feels like family.
"Now!" he growls.
I swear, even with the door closed between us, I can see the way his jaw pulses with irritation beneath the stubble because I'm not moving fast enough to please him. The man has no chill. I'm not sure he even knows the definition of the word.
I haul myself out of my seat, snatch his schedule off the edge of my desk, smooth down my skirt, and march into his office.
"What the fuck?"
He's naked. Half-naked. Whatever. Where there should be a starched shirt, there's a wall of rippling, golden muscle and wiry hair.
Sweet merciful Jesus.
Stop staring.
My brain gives the command, but my eyes refuse to move away from him. He's sex on legs with his shirt on. Without it, I'm pretty sure there are entire volumes of poetry written about his physique.
Jesus Christ.
"I need a new shirt," he growls.
"Clearly." I make no move to go find him one. I'm busy not ogling him. "Uh, why do you need a new shirt?"
"Spilled my goddamn coffee," he grunts, running a hand through his tousled blonde hair. His cerulean eyes lock on me. "Can you find me something suitable for this meeting with the athletic department?"
"Uh-huh. Sure can." My feet aren't moving.
"Now, Seraphina," he says, his eyes boring into me like he can drill the command into my brain.
I move so fast, I lose my balance, tripping into the side of his desk. A stack of files topples over, sliding toward the floor.
"Shit. I'm so sorry." I immediately hit my knees in front of him to scoop them up, my cheeks burning. Why am I always such a mess around him? He looks at me, and I turn into a one-woman tornado.
I refuse to consider precisely why he makes me feel so out of sorts. I'd rather choke myself out with his whistle.
"Shirt," he growls, jerking away when my hand bumps his rock-hard thigh. His jaw pulses again. "Now, Seraphina. Just leave the fucking files."