Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 68481 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68481 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
My brows rose.
“You’re working on your master’s?”
She nodded.
“Wow,” I said, shaking my head. “I always planned on getting my college degree, but then I went into the military, and then straight from the military into the police department. I don’t think I’ll be going back to school anymore.”
She sighed. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I honestly hate school, and I’m definitely taking more time off next semester than I did this semester.”
“Why don’t you like it?” I asked curiously. “You’ve gone all this time… what’s changed?”
She scrunched up her nose and took a sip of her beer, and my eyes lingered on the way her lips looked as they pressed against the bottle.
“I’ve never really liked it,” she admitted. “I started school in the hopes that my father wouldn’t smother me to death while I went. I just traded one thing that was smothering for another. I’m seriously considering just going to work with my bachelor’s instead of my master’s. I’m sure I can find something.”
Before I could ask what her degree was in, she was walking out the door and back toward Avery’s house.
I followed her, hating that she was walking out of my place when I wanted her to stay.
I took a drink of my beer to hide my disappointment as I followed her back over to Derek’s place.
All the while she walked, though, I kept my gaze squarely on her.
Chapter 3
Did the inventor of sweatpants ever consider what he was doing to the female population? Or do you think he knew exactly what he was doing, and just smiled? Because I think he just smiled.
-Amelia’s secret thoughts
Amelia
“I need a drink,” I muttered under my breath.
I was hyperventilating.
Seriously, I was freaking out, and there was nothing I could do about it.
When Avery had said she had a volunteer, I had no clue what I’d been thinking.
I mean, sure, I figured he’d be in shape seeing as he was on the SWAT team with her husband.
I guess I just didn’t figure he’d be in that good of shape, you know?
“What was that?”
I looked over my shoulder at the man that was so sexy that it physically hurt to look at him.
“Umm.” I licked my lips. “Nothing. I thought I heard Avery call us.”
That was a total lie.
But it didn’t hurt that Avery was standing on the front porch as we came back in her direction.
I stopped again to gather another honeysuckle flower—just like I always did when I passed one—and sucked the sweetness out.
Instead of tossing the flower onto the ground, though, I was startled to find it taken straight out of my hands.
I blinked as Adam caught the flower before it could fall from my fingers.
Before I could say so much as a word, he tucked the flower behind my ear, then started walking again, leaving me standing there watching him go.
Stunned.
I was stunned.
What the hell?
My eyes took in his form, and I nearly moaned.
Adam was tall. And by tall, I meant well over my five-foot-three height.
He had to be at least a foot taller than me, if not a bit more.
But there was just so much of Adam to take in that I hadn’t particularly focused on any one thing just yet.
And the man was in sweatpants.
Why, in all that’s holy, was he in sweatpants?
Did he not know what sweatpants did to the female population?
As if he’d heard my unspoken question, he started talking, explaining his attire.
“I was going to wear jeans and shit over here, but then I decided that maybe I should ask because I wasn’t sure. And since I took a quick shower at the station before coming home, it was all I had,” Adam said when he got up to Avery.
Avery shrugged. “I want real life. Wear what you want to wear.”
Adam turned back to me, his eyes taking me in, and I felt a full-body shiver start to rock through me.
His lips tipped up at the corners as he took a sip of his beer.
I watched his tanned neck work and had to stop myself from walking to him and pressing my lips to his sexy as hell throat.
Other than the sweatpants that Adam had on—gray sweatpants that left very little to the imagination when it came to a certain member of his anatomy—he was in a black skin-tight t-shirt that showed off his perfect body. His muscular arms, bulky chest, broad shoulders, and his perfect abs.
He was also wearing combat boots to round out the outfit.
It was kind of funny when you saw it all paired together, but somehow Adam worked the outfit well.
I took another swift drink of my beer and coughed lightly when I drew in too much too fast.
Adam’s lips twitched, and I rolled my eyes, laughing at my awkwardness. To hide my embarrassment, I set the extra beer that I had down onto the concrete next to where he’d parked his bike. He followed suit, keeping his opened one solidly in his hand.