Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“Oh, excuse me. Like you gave anyone else a chance. You’re just deciding that this is the way it is.”
Seriously? He wants to argue when we have all this stuff to deal with? I am not in the mood. “I’ve had three shitty games in a row. Now the press is saying terrible things about Trina. I’m trying to fix it. The last thing we need is this blowing up and someone saying she’s a bad luck charm for me. Saying it’s her fault my team’s losing,” I say, breathing hard, like I ran a race.
Trina snaps her sad gaze to me. “They would say that,” she says heavily.
See? She gets it. She gets me. “They love to find an enemy. That fan account that loved you the other day will hate you when the team doesn’t play well. I need to play well.” I also need to calm down. A few deep breaths and I’m settled. I’m the team captain. I need to handle this thoroughly and well. “Look, if you need a PR firm to run interference, I’ll find you one.”
Ryker rolls his eyes. “She doesn’t need a fucking PR firm.”
“What does she need then?”
He doesn’t answer—just gives me a you’re a dick look.
I turn to Trina, wishing I could erase the situation I’ve put her in, all because I didn’t want to be set up at a wedding. “Look, I made a mistake. I should have just gone to the wedding solo. No big deal. This is my fault and I’m sorry, but I want to fix things. You get that, right? You understand me?”
I feel a little desperate. She’s always understood me. I hope to hell she still does.
She hesitates. But not like she’s unsure, more like she’s weighing everything, then she says, “Is this what you want?”
Like what I want matters. I want her. I want this. But if this thing between us could get toppled so easily…
“This isn’t about what I want. It’s about doing the right thing,” I say, emphatic and resolute.
But just so I’m not a unilateral dick, I turn to my buddy. “You good with this?”
He sears me with his eyes. He’s the grump all over again. The guy in the limo with the hard edge. The one who doesn’t trust people.
I can’t fix that right now though.
I turn to the woman I was falling for to see what she wants to do tonight. But she’s already down the hall, and when I follow, I find her throwing shirts and dresses into her suitcase, gathering her things.
That’s clear then.
36
DRESS HANDKERCHIEF
Trina
Rushing through Chase’s home with an aching heart, I stave off a torrent of tears as I grab my lotion and toothpaste, then send a quick text.
This is so ridiculous, the way I feel. It was nine days. I shouldn’t feel a thing, and yet my throat is terribly tight from fighting off all these emotions.
I call a Lyft, then beeline into Chase’s gigantic room, squinting so I don’t have to see every single corner of the place that feels like my new home. I grab the few shirts I left here, then I hightail it back to the guest room I never used. I toss my clothes into my duffel bag, then a few books, and I stop, frozen as I stare at all these gifts.
What do I do with these dresses they bought me the other night? I hold up a red one with pockets. Ugh. I want to bury my face in it and use it as a handkerchief to soak up all the waterworks I’m holding back.
“Take them. They’re yours,” Chase says from the door behind him.
I squeeze my eyes shut. I want more than dresses, you idiot.
“But you don’t have to leave tonight,” Chase adds, perhaps trying to lessen the blow.
Good luck with that, buddy.
“It’s fine,” I chirp.
“Trina, I didn’t mean to suggest you had to go now,” he says, trying again.
But I do. I really do. I stuff the dresses into the bag. “It’s no problem.”
He sighs, then asks, “Can I help you with anything?”
This is who he is. The helper. Giving me a place to stay, helping with my sex woes, and then offering to sort out this new mess.
It’s hard to be mad at him for not wanting me the way I want him. For not falling for me the way I fell for him.
His heart is in the right place, but I still shake my head, squeaking out an “I’m fine” as I shove the rest of the clothes into my duffel.
I shouldn’t be upset because no one made any promises. No one offered me a single thing. Both of these guys were totally upfront from the get-go. This was just sex. This was just a week of fun. This was just a to-do list, and we did it all and more.