Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 97382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
When Dawson is on the road, he has an outfit that he wears for the trip there. He wears the same suit to all his games, hockey and football, and he has a specific outfit for the trip home. He never changes. It’s always the same three sets of clothes. No matter the weather. Even the same boxers and socks until he has to replace them. I laughed when he told me about a time that Louis washed his pink sweatbands from a Glow Run with Dawson’s travel boxers, turning them bright pink. He was mortified, but they looked so good on him, now he only wears pink underwear.
I think my face was as bright as said underwear when I was watching the video he had recorded to show me his pink boxers. Even with his teammates dogging him, he just laughed and showed the line of his pink boxers and a bit of abs that left me drooling. But it was his confidence as his friends made fun of him that really got me going. It’s impressive how nothing seems to set him off course. Everyone is telling him to pick a sport, but he won’t. He wants both, and he isn’t above working for it.
Then there is this thing with me.
True to his word, he has only sent videos and voice messages. He isn’t posting on Instagram anymore, almost as if these things are only for me. I crave them. I no longer dread seeing one of his buddies. Instead, I get excited, which is so bad. I know that, but I can’t help it either. I’m trying so hard to keep him at arm’s length, but I’m also holding on to DoesMyBreathStink60 like my favorite teddy bear. It feels safer over the messaging app. I can hide my face and the feelings that are growing.
I can fake that I’m still firmly in my own orbit and not floating around in his.
Being under his gaze, feeling his heat, knowing what his lips taste like, how I want to run my thumb along his hangnail like a freak… I feel wildly out of control.
A feeling I’m starting to want desperately.
The calmness of the two of us in that rink? Yeah, I want that.
As much as I want to convince myself that he’ll hurt me, I know I’m no longer able to. Nor can I ignore the fact that he hasn’t given up.
And everyone gives up on me.
I press my teeth into my bottom lip as I go back to stirring the limeade I added Tajín to for a little kick. It’s my favorite thing to serve at my recordings, and it’s always a hit. Tía comes whirling into the kitchen like a mini Latin tornado and kisses me on the temple. “Ah, mija, so gorgeous.”
I preen at her since I did try to look nicer than I usually do. After my moment of craziness when I told Jayden Sinclair that I hoped he thought about what Dawson wanted, I wanted to impress him. I will not read into that, and neither will you. Instead, we will admire the fact that I am wearing a little bright-yellow skirt that has ruffles at the bottom. I paired it with a black Rowe Report tee and left my hair down in very tight curls. I put on some makeup, but not much.
I just want to look good for them.
I want them to like me.
I want them to think I would look good beside Dawson.
Whoa. Did I just think that?
What. The. Hell. Am. I. Thinking?
The ladle clanks against the pitcher as I pull it out, throwing it into the sink. Tía comes up behind me, hugging me into her chest. “What’s wrong? Are you nervous?”
I swallow around a lump in my throat as I nod. “A bit.”
“Why? You’ve been excited about this.”
“I just want them to like me.”
“They will, mija. I know they will. You are so smart, so gorgeous, so talented.”
I lean into her. “The last time they saw me, I flicked their son’s nose.”
She grins against my shoulder. “Yes, but now you’re sitting in the bleachers with him and cuddling.”
I furrow my brow. “We weren’t cuddling. We were just close.”
“You hold his hand?”
Shit. “Yes.”
“Your whole side touch his?”
I relent, rolling my eyes with a sigh. “Okay, we cuddled.”
“It’s okay. Get naked next.”
“Tía!” I squeal since I will not allow myself even to think of that.
Dawson naked?
Thighs.
Chest.
That thing he says is his cock but looked more like a baseball bat in his shorts.
His eyes devouring me.
Is it hot in here?
“What? Just saying,” she says, patting my hips as I pull in a deep lungful of air. “I like him. I like that he listened to you. Men don’t listen.”
I set her with a look. “Dad did.”
She smiles at me, heartache shining in her eyes. “Your dad wasn’t just a man. He was an example for men.”