Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 101758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“Who are you talking to?”
“You, Red.” Cooper smirks next to him, but Xander ignores him. “Who’s name is on your back?”
I blink, thinking.
“Mullins. He’s been retired for twenty years. This is vintage.”
“Uh-oh,” Britney breathes, but I can’t take my eyes off the angry man in front of me.
His handsome face is mutinous. He’s good and pissed off.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass if it’s gold plated, I don’t want you wearing another man’s name on your back.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Do I look like I’m kidding, Ivy?”
I look around the room, at our friends. Britney’s hiding a smile behind Cally. Cooper isn’t hiding his smile at all.
“Um, Xander, this is just a T-shirt.”
To my utter shock, the man before me whips his own shirt over his head and holds it out to me, and I take a step back.
“What are you doing?”
“Wear mine.”
“N-no.” I laugh because this is ridiculous. “If you have a personal issue with Mullins, I’ll change my shirt—”
“I fucking hate his guts now that I know you have his shirt in your possession.”
I lift an eyebrow. “I need you to take a deep breath.”
Unable to stay away, I step closer to him and slide my hand in his, and holy goose bumps. This is the first time I’ve ever held Xander’s hand, and it feels damn good. His fingers dwarf mine, and his thumb instinctively starts to rub circles over my knuckles.
I crook my finger so he’ll dip his head down, and then I whisper-shout, “It’s just a T-shirt, you blockhead.”
Britney and Cooper both snort, and Xander’s eyes narrow. I can’t look away from those green orbs because if I do, I’ll drop my gaze to his bare torso, and then I’ll make an absolute fool of myself.
And lick him.
Or worse.
“Excuse us,” Xander says, and with my hand still firmly held in his, he leads me from the living room to my bedroom and shuts the door.
“You do know that you sound certifiable, right?”
“I don’t know why I’m being a complete idiot, I just am. I don’t want to see anyone else’s name on you. Please change.”
“You’re serious.”
His jaw firms and a muscle tics, and with a shrug, I walk over to my drawer and pull out a Hendrix T-shirt, then cross to the bathroom so I can change.
When I walk back out, he’s wearing his own shirt once again, and his whole body relaxes.
I turn around so he can see the back. “Does this work for you?”
“So, I am your favorite player.”
I bark out a laugh and reach out to take his hand again. “We need to talk about your psychotic tendencies.”
“Never had them before you started coming to my house every day, Red. Come on, let’s go eat some pizza.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
IVY
The past few days have been so freaking fun. I didn’t realize how badly I was missing fun in my life until I started spending time with Xander, and then Cooper and Britney. The couple left the day after we had the surprise pizza party at my place, which was full of laughter. I’ve never felt that comfortable with people. Since then, Xander and I have continued to work together during the day, but we haven’t spent time together outside that.
And it’s okay. He’s still flirty and funny, and I’ve started to relax in his company. I don’t even blush as often when he flirts or touches me.
“Let’s start with the elliptical today,” I say when we get to the gym. We already finished our breakfast burritos.
I come an hour before our appointment time every day so we can eat together, and it’s honestly my favorite part of the day.
“I really need to start jogging,” he replies.
“I think that’s feasible.” I nod, making notes in my phone. “You can start that today, actually.”
“Really?” His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas morning.
“You’re so happy about running. I hate running. I won’t do it unless something’s chasing me.”
He snorts. “I won’t let anything chase you, wildcat. Great, treadmill it is.”
“I have rules.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, making his biceps bulge, and I can’t help but bite my lip. “Of course you have rules.”
“You do that on purpose to distract me, don’t you?”
“Do what?”
“That.” I reach out and pat his upper arm, and Oh my God. It’s pure muscle. All my girlie bits are doing the freaking cha-cha right now. “How many hours do you spend on upper body here in the gym without me?”
He smirks. “A lot. Admit it. I’m your favorite.”
He tries at least once a day.
I roll my eyes and step back.
“You will jog. You will not run. So you can get started, and I’ll tell you when to hold at a certain speed.”
“Have I ever mentioned that I don’t like being told what to do?”
I snort as he steps onto the treadmill and starts walking. His gait is normal, showing no signs of favoring the healing knee, which is great progress. He wasn’t horrible when I first got here, but I can already see a big difference.