Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Yeah.
Too late to change now, though, right?
Robbie gave up on the freezer and opened the fridge, a little surprised to find himself checking for orange juice before locating food for himself. The no-pulp kind Skylar liked. Why didn’t they have any on hand for the morning? Mentally planning a trip to the store before she woke up, Robbie sighed in relief when he saw a plastic-wrapped platter of leftover burgers, buns and all. “I assure you, I will never get used to regular human portions of food. When I was a kid, I got kicked out of summer camp for breaking into the cafeteria in the middle of the night.” He set the plate down on the counter and whipped off the plastic like a magician revealing a rabbit. “They found me with my face submerged in a five-gallon tub of corn chowder. That’s how I got my summer camp nickname. Robbie Corn-igan.”
“Wow. Sounds like you’ve always been a pain in the ass.”
“You’ve got that right,” Robbie said around a mouthful of meaty goodness. “Like recognizes like, I guess.”
He put his hand out for a fist bump.
Elton gave it a withering look.
“If you thought this was going to be a bonding moment, I hate to break it to you, it’s not.” Elton turned in the stool to face Robbie, rearing back a little when he caught Robbie inserting an entire slider into his gob before he’d even finished the last one. “Jesus, man.”
“I’m ftarbing!”
Elton made a flippant gesture toward the fridge. “At least put some fucking ketchup on them. They’re completely dry. If you choke, I’m not Heimliching you.”
Robbie swallowed. “I’ve had to learn how to Heimlich myself. I’m a pro.”
“Wow. I had no idea my sister had lowered her standards quite this much.”
“Lucky me,” Robbie said, grinning.
Elton scrutinized Robbie in the dim kitchen light, brow puckered, his fingers drumming on the island. “I can’t believe I’m going to ask you this, but what are your intentions with my sister?”
Robbie took a huge bite, so he could buy himself enough time to formulate an answer. Because, yeah, that wasn’t an easy question. In a perfect world, one where he hadn’t presented himself to Skylar as a misogynist asshole from the jump, he’d be trying to date her. Only her. Yeah. Skylar was a once-in-a-lifetime girl. He’d probably be painting his body in BU colors to cheer her on at softball games by now. That was, if she hadn’t—correctly—pegged him as a player who took nothing and no one seriously.
The burgers sprouted thorns in his stomach.
There was very little chance he could convince her of the opposite now. She’d made up her mind. But Robbie couldn’t very well spill the truth to Elton. That he’d come here to atone for his behavior with Skylar.
And he definitely couldn’t tell Elton they were fake dating to attract his best friend.
Robbie decided to stick as close to the truth as he could, under the circumstances. “I like your sister. A lot. I’m just trying to spend as much time around her as possible.”
Elton processed that with an air of skepticism. “Are you sure you’re not just here to incite me?”
“You think I’d go to all this effort just to piss off a baseball player?”
Skylar’s brother raised an eyebrow.
“Fine, I guess that suspicion is justified.” God, if he could just go back and rewind the last week of his life, he would do it in a heartbeat. Make a better impression on Skylar. Even on her brother. Now he was in the familiar position of trying to convince people he wasn’t a total shit show of a human being, which seemed to be his default situation. When would he learn his lesson?
Now.
You’re learning it right now.
You mouthed off one too many times and now you can’t have the girl.
“I’m not here with the sole intention of pissing you off, man. That’s just a bonus.” Robbie could no longer find his smile and the burgers had lost their appeal, so he commenced wrapping them back up in plastic. “I didn’t expect Skylar. She’s clever, funny, driven, cool, and . . . God, she’s fucking beautiful.” Had his stomach gotten stuck in his windpipe? “I’m here for her. No other reason. She’s reason enough.”
When he looked up at Elton, the other man appeared caught off guard. He recovered quickly, however. “That’s not what I asked. What are your intentions?”
Make her fall for me instead of Madden.
That’s what his heart begged him to say. To believe.
But that possibility was so far-fetched, giving it oxygen would be pathetic.
“Treat her right. Make her laugh. Help her win.” Robbie forced a chuckle. “Hope she doesn’t realize she’s way out of my league.”
A rumble emanated from Elton’s chest. “I punched you in the face last week for disrespecting my sister, but . . . she can take care of herself. We all take care of ourselves. Individually. I’m not going to step on that.” Elton stood, moving forward to place himself toe-to-toe and eyeball-to-eyeball with Robbie, who—obviously—held his ground like a motherfucking hockey player should, fists bunched and ready to swing if necessary. “But I heard the same shit she heard at the baseball field. Bragging about your hookup from the night before.” Robbie tried not to openly flinch, but he didn’t quite keep the lid on his reaction. He’d been so sick about Skylar overhearing him, the fact that Elton heard, as well, hadn’t quite occurred to him. Until now. “If I ever find out you’re talking about my sister like that, I will put you in the emergency room.”