Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
I’m not sure if it’s the thought of spending the day with Brayden that fills me with so much anxiety or if it’s the idea of taking him home and introducing him to my family. What I can’t deny is that the more time that slides by, the more genuine our relationship begins to feel. My breath catches, getting clogged in my throat as those thoughts echo throughout my brain. That’s exactly what I can’t permit to happen. We might be attempting to fool everyone around us, but I can’t allow myself to get caught up in the charade.
I almost have to force myself to grab the door handle of his truck and yank it open. As I do, my gaze lands on Brayden. The air gets wedged in my throat as I take him in.
He looks...
Hot.
He’s outfitted in a pale pink polo that hugs both biceps along with his chest before being tucked into jeans that do amazing things to his thighs. My mouth turns cottony. At this very moment, I’m probably eating him up with my eyes.
“Hi.” I clear my throat and force my voice to be nonchalant. The last thing I want is for Brayden to suspect the thoughts that are crashing through my head at lightning speed.
“Hey yourself.” His gaze flicks to the sidewalk before he nods. “Was that Ryder McAdams you were talking with?”
My brows draw together as I glance at the hockey player’s retreating form.
“Yeah.”
“Were you two hanging out or something?” His expression darkens.
“No, we just walked out together.” I shrug before asking with a snort, “Why? Are you jealous?” That’s a joke, obviously. Feelings would have to be involved in order for that to happen, and there aren’t any between us.
“Maybe.”
What?
That’s not the answer I was expecting. I still, surprised by his blunt response. “I’ve known him since freshman year. He was friends with Ethan.”
His muscles loosen. “Good to know.”
It’s a surprise when he reaches over and wraps his hand around the back of my head before drawing me in for a kiss that makes me forget every single qualm.
How does he do it?
How does he scramble my senses so completely?
The more he lays his hands—not to mention his lips—on me, the quicker it happens.
By the time we finally break apart, I’m breathing harshly. It’s as if I’ve just run a marathon. His gaze slides down my body, taking in every minute detail, before he flicks his gaze to mine again. “You’re looking good enough to eat, Sydney.”
An arrow of lust detonates in my belly before settling in my core.
“Thanks.” It doesn’t escape me that his compliments have come to mean more than anyone else’s. Both Ryder and Demi commented on how nice I looked, and yet it’s only Brayden’s words that fill me with pleasure.
If I hadn’t already realized that I was knee-deep in shit, it’s now been slammed home with the force of a two-by-four. I need to figure out an extrication plan before this sticky situation becomes more problematic.
“Would you look at us,” he says, humor simmering in his deep voice. “It’s almost like we planned to be all matchy-matchy.”
I rack my brain, trying to remember if I mentioned what I might wear to the party. Since I picked out the outfit a few hours ago, and we haven’t spoken since last night, that’s impossible.
When I remain silent, he adds, “We’re the perfect couple.”
What?
No way. We would have to be the real deal in order for that to be true. This is nothing more than a coincidence.
My heart crashes into my chest. “Please,” I mumble, slamming the door closed and sealing myself inside the truck. “we’re hardly that.”
Brayden’s gaze trails over me for a second time before he reaches out and twirls a thick lock around his finger. For a moment, he seems enamored by the blonde strands. “I like it when you wear your hair down.”
I ruthlessly stomp out any pleasure attempting to bloom inside me. Even though I know it won’t do a damn bit of good, I can’t resist making one last ditch effort to stop this from happening. “You know, it’s not too late to bail on this party. I could tell them you got food poisoning and are busy vomiting your brains out.”
“No way.” He throws the truck into reverse. “I’m excited to meet the rest of your family.” His gaze flickers to mine. “There are so many questions I’m dying to ask that have stumped me for years. Adorable baby pics I want to ooh and aah over.” He waggles his brows in a comical manner. “Maybe you can take me to your childhood room, and we can pour through your old yearbooks.”
I really hope he’s joking. The look in his eyes tells me that he’s not. His lips tremble at the corners when I slump in my seat and release a defeated groan.