Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 136559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 683(@200wpm)___ 546(@250wpm)___ 455(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 683(@200wpm)___ 546(@250wpm)___ 455(@300wpm)
I slide my fingers into her hair and tighten my fist at her nape, tipping her chin to the perfect angle. I coast my lips down her throat, kissing the soft, delicate skin there, my free hand tugging at the top of her shirt.
I should stop. Really, I should.
But she lets go of my collar, wraps her hands around my head, and jerks me closer to her chest.
Fuck yes.
I groan against her skin and kiss her more—the hollow of her throat, the dip of her collarbone, the side of her neck. Her jaw next, grazing my teeth along it, before I meet her lips again.
One more shot, I tell myself.
One for the road.
I raise my face and then drop my lips more gently onto hers. This is me hitting the brakes. I slow down as our mouths meet again and run my fingers along her arms, savoring one last kiss.
Then I let go.
We’re both panting.
Eyes are glazed.
Windows are fogged.
I’ve already gone further than I should.
I shoot her a rueful half-smile, then do what I should have earlier instead of giving in to this wild need that inhabits me when I’m near her. “We probably shouldn’t be alone together again.” I somehow manage to choke out the words, hating each one.
“No,” Leighton says. “We definitely shouldn’t.”
She sounds resolute. Thank god, because I’m sure as hell not.
“Yeah,” I say dryly. “I guess you’re more than a little irresistible.” I lift my thumb and forefinger to show a sliver of space.
The callback to earlier makes her chuckle. “You too.”
The words warm my chest. Leighton lifts a hand and slides a thumb along my jaw, brushing over my stubble before letting go and picking up my glasses. “Here you go.”
I slide them back on and blow out a breath. “Bye, Leighton,” I say, then shake my head, frustrated with myself. “And I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For breaking our…deal not to do this again.”
Her sigh is heavy and a little wistful. “I broke it too. Things happen.”
She’s letting me off easy, but I’ll take it. “I guess they do.”
“We’ll make a new promise,” she says.
“That we won’t be alone together.” I offer my hand to seal the agreement—and to test whether I can touch her without pulling her into my arms.
She shakes my hand, proving it’s possible. “Good night, Falcon.”
“Good night, Shutterbug.”
She collects her bags and climbs out of the car, heading to her building. At the door, she gives a brief wave goodbye before going inside.
I don’t leave right away. I sit behind the wheel. Drag a hand through my hair. Stare out the window while I replay the night.
Finally, I go too.
When I get home, I call my brother and refocus on my responsibilities—to the team, to my family, to myself. And…to the coach. I won’t let them down. It’s time to move forward. That’s the only way I know.
16
NOT SO FAST
Leighton
The thing about pigeons pornicating is this—their cooing sound is right in my wheelhouse.
It’s low and a little rumbly, like thunder, and it wakes me up like high-pitched banging never would.
Fortunately, I’m a morning person, so I pop out of bed and turn off the alarm that is about to go off anyway.
In the living room, I pause at the window to check out the feathered friends with benefits. I suppose I should give them their privacy. But look—if Ms. Peck and Big Bird want discretion, they could pick a different place to get it on. I press my hand to the cool glass as I peer at the scene on the windowsill. “Get it, girl,” I say when Big Bird hops up on her back to seal the deal.
I’ll miss these little exhibitionists when I leave. Shame that this place is going co-op. I don’t mind Maeve’s quirky apartment—ducking in the low-hanging shower, and the sideways toilet. For these last several months, it’s been my own space.
I head out. I have a shoot later today, but I need to make a quick stop at the arena before I go to the studio. Dad texted me after he left the wedding party last night, telling me he’d forgotten to take home a box of chocolates and adding a sad face emoji so I’d grab an extra box for him.
The sweet-tooth treasure in hand, I hop on a bus. I gaze out the window at the city passing by, but in my mind, I’m watching yesterday’s highlights—the moment in the diner with the hostess, then stolen moments with Miles at the party, in The Spotted Zebra, in his car...
My stomach flips, but I shake off that weakness. I’m in full game mode by the time the bus pulls over at the Sea Dogs home, and I bound down the steps and toward the arena’s main entrance. Ruben, one of the security guards, greets me and quickly scans my bag before waving me through.