Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
This had him snapping his head in my direction, his eyebrows furrowed as if that statement concerned him. He wore this unpleasant expression on his face and then looked back at the road. I heard the leather from the steering wheel creak because he tightened his hold on it.
“Hate you?” He sounded almost pissed.
Mal didn’t say anything for long seconds after responding, but I could still see it made him tense, which made me curious as hell as to what was going through his head.
He finally exhaled roughly, took his free hand, and ran it over the back of his head. “No, Delilah. I don’t hate you. Far, far from it.”
My heart did a little hiccup at that, but I didn’t respond. I felt pleasure at his statement, and although it really wasn’t anything monumental or intimate, hearing him say he felt the furthest thing from hate for me had my entire body warming almost uncomfortably.
The rest of the ride to my house was done in silence, and it was tense and awkward, this weirdness hanging between us that had never been there before. I was used to sarcasm with him, banter, and the annoying jabs we gave each other. But this? This was uncharted territory, and I didn’t really like it. It made me feel… uncontrollable.
I was letting my attraction for Mal take the front seat. It was far easier to let myself be annoyed by him. But acknowledged attraction? Feelings? That wasn’t something I wanted consuming me.
But this was far more than simple attraction. And I knew I wasn’t even allowing myself to fully absorb the impact of it all. If I did… God, it would suffocate me.
He pulled into my driveway and let the truck idle. I should have gotten out of there fast as hell, ended this weirdness that I felt, but I was rooted to the spot. I just sat there, picking at the edge of my shirt, feeling my backpack butt up against the tips of my toes. I sensed him looking at me and felt my cheeks heat from the intensity of his stare.
“Are you going with Aiden to that party at the frat house tonight?”
It took me a moment to fully hear what he said, my mind filled with things that were really inappropriate where Mal was concerned. I shook my head before I responded. “God, no. Parties aren’t really my… thing." I lifted my hand and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, not sure what else to say. He was still watching me so intently. “Besides, it’ll be kind of nice having the house to myself.”
“House to yourself? Your parents are gonna be gone?”
I nodded slowly and licked my lips again. God, get a hold of yourself. This was Mal. I’d known him for so long that I shouldn’t be acting so nervous. “My dad's taking my mom to the city. He got a couple nights off at work, so she pretty much forced him on a little getaway.”
Mal leaned back in his seat and watched me still. So. Much. Intense. Watching. His posture relaxed some, but there was something behind his eyes that told me he was tense. Maybe just as much as I was.
“Thank you,” I muttered, feeling weird and awkward, embarrassed even by how I was acting. I climbed out and got my bag, glancing up at him before I shut the door. He looked at me with a strange expression, although it was unreadable.
I closed the door and quickly made my way to the front of the house, and right before I went in, I looked over my shoulder. Sure enough, Mal was watching me, his brows pulled down low in concentration, his lips in a severe line.
I didn’t know what was happening between us, but it was foreign and unusual… and a part of me kind of liked it.
5
Mal
Sweat poured off me, and my body ached from the grueling practice Coach just put us through... me specifically, seeing as he rode my ass about not concentrating.
I was fucking concentrating, just not on football. I couldn’t stop thinking about Delilah. She was on my mind constantly, but over the last couple of days, she’d really been consuming my thoughts, so much so that I couldn’t focus on anything but her.
The way she bit her lip.
The way she played with the ends of her hair.
How she always smelled faintly like lemons.
God, I was getting hard, my body not giving two shits that my teammates were surrounding me as I stood in the locker room.
I closed my eyes and willed myself to get control, and when that didn’t work, I cursed, grabbed a change of clothes and my bag, and went into an empty stall. I wasn’t about to get undressed in front of anyone with this raging hard-on I sported.