Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 124923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 416(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 416(@300wpm)
“Fine. You want me to be mean to you?”
“That would be great.”
“You snore like a bear and your tits aren’t even that great.”
I laugh into his shirt.
“Tell me what you want to do,” he says softly.
“I want to go back to campus.” I almost say home, because as pathetic as it is, the dorms really do feel like home now. Holden feels like home.
“Then let’s go.” He reaches around my back to open my car door. “You want to drive, or do you want me to?”
I lift my head to look at him. “What about your car?”
He shrugs. “Leave it. I’ll come back for it another time.”
I nod. Part of me wants time alone to lick my wounds in peace, but a bigger part of me is glad Holden’s coming back with me. “I’ll drive,” I say, sliding into the driver’s seat. He closes my door, then bends down to pick up my bag. I pop the trunk as he rounds the car and tosses it in the back before taking his seat next to me.
“What?” he asks, looking over at me when I can’t hold in my laughter.
“You make this car look like a clown car.”
“This is a clown car,” he corrects, reaching below the seat to try to scoot it backward. It only moves a couple inches, not making much of a difference. “And not very practical for New England winters.”
“But it’s pretty,” I tease. “You sure you don’t want me to take you to get your car?”
“Positive.” He pulls the hood of his sweatshirt over his head, settling back into his seat.
I hit the start button on my car, and Holden’s hand squeezes my thigh as I look behind me to back out of the driveway. His fingers are dangerously high on the inside of my leg, but they don’t travel any farther, apparently content to use my thighs as a hand warmer.
“I was lying about your tits not being great, by the way.”
Holden
I’m three hours into practice when Valen’s cheer team infiltrates the gym, followed by a whole crew of people carrying cameras and various equipment. It’s been four days since she showed up at my door asking me to love her. She hasn’t gone back to cheering as far as I know, so I’m surprised when I see her walk through the double doors. I smirk when I see that she’s wearing one of my hoodies, the sleeves hanging past her hands, two blue pom-poms sticking out at the end. It’s a plain black hoodie—nothing that anyone would recognize as mine—but it tells me she’s one step closer to staking her claim on me. Publicly. That torturous ribbon is tied around her ponytail that swings with each step she takes, and my dick strains against the thin fabric of my shorts when I remember the last night she wore one.
“Since it’s getting too cold, we’ll get the rest of our shots in the gym,” the woman with the camera says, leading them to the opposite side of the court. “I think we have enough team shots, so let’s work on solos.”
I tear my eyes away from Valen when it’s my turn to shoot. It’s the end of practice where everyone’s shooting and fucking around for the most part, but one of the coaches still makes the rounds, making sure we’re not slacking off completely. The second I take my shot, I find myself seeking her out again.
Two guys have a black backdrop set up in seconds, and music starts playing from the portable speaker they rolled in. Coach throws up his hands, exasperated. “It’s not like we’re practicing over here or anything,” he grumbles, his gruff voice carrying across the gym. Ryan lets out a laugh that he tries to disguise with a cough when Coach cuts him a glare. Everyone else smothers their amusement, trying to refocus their attention on practice.
Valen pulls my hoodie over her head and drops it to the floor. Holy fuck. They must’ve gotten new uniforms because I’ve never seen her wear this one. It’s white, short as hell, and tight, so fucking tight, with a thick blue stripe down the sides and a little slit at the top of her thigh on one side.
“If you’re ready, we can start with you,” the photographer says to Valen. She bends over to pick up her pom-poms, giving me a prime view of her ass as she does so. She hasn’t so much as looked in my direction, completely oblivious to my presence.
The second she’s in front of the camera, she effortlessly turns it on, hitting several different poses in a matter of seconds. First, she has one hand behind her head, her left leg popped out, toes pointed. Then, she takes her pom-poms and shakes them together, her pretty face breaking into a smile. The next second, the photographer directs two people to spray fog spray—whatever the fuck that is—behind Valen while she brings her left leg straight up in the air, revealing the white underwear that goes under her uniform. She holds on to one foot while the other one stays firmly planted on the ground like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Her team hypes her up, cheering while the camera flashes. And I’ve never been more turned on in my life.