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)
Her lips quirk. “I’m boring.”
I scoff. “You’re anything but fucking boring, Ro.”
She looks away, her grin making her cheeks look bigger. In a low voice, she asks, “Did you mean it?”
I pull my brows together, and I’m unable to hold back any longer. I reach out, taking her chin between my thumb and forefinger, guiding her gaze back to mine. Her face is flushed, her eyes dark, and those damn lips are all plump, kissable, and will be my downfall. “Mean what, heart-stopper?”
“That no one has seen your penis skin.”
I know this is a serious moment, and an important one even, but I can’t help my laugh. She does the same, but then our gazes lock and the laughter subsides. “I did,” I say, hoping she believes every word. “I haven’t been with anyone in over six months.”
Her brows furrow. “We’ve only been…doing whatever this is for three.”
I nod. “I was getting tired of the same thing over and over. I got a concussion last season, so I spent the summer really focused on my nutrition and training. I did a lot of my hours for SafeSport, and I slept a ton.”
“But you let me think you were fucking around—”
“No, I didn’t. I have been honest since the jump that you’re all I want. That no one matters but you.”
She swallows before looking down between us. “I haven’t been with anyone in two years.”
“I don’t care about anything but you and me.” She looks up, and I take another step toward her. When she pulls in a deep breath, I smile, and her eyes move to my mouth. “I really like this skirt.”
I move my fingers along the ruffles, and she inhales another deep breath. My fingers graze her bare thigh, and I quickly look up to make sure it’s okay. Her eyes are dark, hooded, and fuck, I want her. “Maybe you can give me your number and we can make this real?”
“Maybe,” she says, arching into my touch.
“And I can take you to coffee.”
“Maybe.”
I smile and her lips twitch. “When you said you were going to the apple thing with my family, you know you were saying you were coming with me.”
She holds my gaze, nothing but playfulness in those whiskey depths. “Maybe.”
I lick my lips. “I want to do basic shit with you.”
“Like?”
“Movies, dinner, pumpkin patch?”
Her eyes widen, and she barks out a laugh. “Really?”
“Really.” My socked feet touch her bare ones, and she looks up at me with such a sweetness in her eyes, I feel like I’m getting a cavity.
“I’m a pretty bad-ass carver of a pumpkin.”
“Not as good as me.”
We stare each other down, and the love I have for her spreads throughout my body. Her lips curve, and she shakes her head in exasperation. “You’re going to make me fall for you, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely.”
She sighs deeply, reaching out to take hold of the hem of my shirt. When she pulls, I go willingly, holding myself back from pressing my whole body into hers by placing my hands on the counter behind her. She tips her head back, and I bend mine down, resting my forehead on hers. Her eyes move back and forth between mine as we share the same air. Her scent is as intoxicating as her whole face, and I’m speechless while I gaze down at her. She moves then, her lips barely touching mine before she whispers, “Don’t hurt me, okay?”
I could take her lips. I could kiss her and devour her in mere seconds, but I don’t. Instead, I meet her gaze and then kiss her nose. “I’d rather tear my own heart out of my chest than ever fumble yours.”
Her eyes widen at that, but before I can pull back to keep from kissing her, she says, “Kiss me, Dawson.”
I inhale, my heart in my throat. “Not yet.”
Her brows shoot up. “Why?”
“Because when I do, I want you to know in your soul that what I just said was the truth.”
She presses her lips together, and I know she doesn’t believe me. I give her a sad smile then kiss her cheek. “Be ready tomorrow at noon for our day date.”
And then I leave.
Without tasting her.
But knowing I will.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
Ambrosia
The Rowe Report: Episode 1003: In the Crease with the Monroes.
Wren Monroe: I was pregnant and needed a baby daddy.
Jensen Monroe: You make it sound so soap-opera-like.
Laughter.
Wren Monroe: It’s the truth!
Jensen Monroe: Yes, but you left out the part where I was totally, wholeheartedly, and maddeningly in love with you. That I didn’t care you were my best friend’s sister. All I cared about was getting you to notice me. I played like my life depended on it whenever I knew you were watching. When I was a kid, a teenager, and then as an adult, I was playing for you and only you.