Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
“You just need a shower and some time to clear your head,” Oliver finishes for me.
I nod gratefully and turn that way.
“Use whatever you need,” he calls after me. “There’s shampoo and stuff in the shower, and even a new toothbrush in the cabinet.”
I cough out a laugh and glance back at him. “I smell that bad, huh?”
He wrinkles his nose and looks me over. “I’ve yet to meet someone who wears vomit well.”
I can’t quite manage a laugh, but I find myself smiling for the first time all night.
OLIVER
I distract myself from thoughts of Savannah in my shower by ordering food.
I’ve never been good with emotional breakdowns—and I can see hers coming from a mile away—but I can manage to feed her. What I can’t seem to manage is imagining Savannah under the hot spray of my showerhead, water sluicing down her breasts, her soapy hands roaming over every inch of her skin.
My phone buzzes, pulling me from X-rated thoughts of joining her. X-rated thoughts of just how much I want to help her forget her asshole boyfriend.
I need her, but if this is going to work, I’m going to have to keep my hands to myself. No matter how much I’d like to indulge in this attraction.
I pull my phone from my pocket to see who’s texting me.
Eddie: The Viper? Seriously?
Oliver: Getting that much cash so quickly was too complicated. This was easier.
Eddie: But I fucking love that car. I was hoping you’d bequeath it to me or some shit.
Oliver: You were hoping I’d die so you could have my car?
Eddie: We both would’ve remembered you fondly.
Oliver: Ass.
Eddie: Hope it’s worth it, man.
Me too, Eddie. Me too. Instead of replying, I dial the only pizza place on campus open this late. They keep hot pizzas ready to go, so at least I know they’ll be here quickly. I order a pizza, breadsticks, and add half a dozen of their fresh chocolate-chip cookies to the delivery on a whim. My sister says chocolate is medicine for broken hearts, so maybe it will help Savvy.
Either the delivery guy is really fast or Savvy’s shower is really long, because by the time I hear the shower turn off, I’m putting the food on the island. When I turn around to tell her what I ordered, I freeze and all my words fall away.
My T-shirt is too big on her, and it’s already wet at the shoulders from her long hair. She’s rolled the sweatpants at the waist, which is too big for her, yet they still fit snug at her hips and ass.
Fuck. What is it about the sight of a woman in my clothes, fresh out of the shower?
When she meets my gaze, I see nothing but vulnerability in those hazel eyes. A surge of protectiveness fills my chest and is followed quickly by a tidal wave of guilt. She trusts me.
“Food’s here,” I say, jerking myself out of my stupor and waving to the counter.
She gives a tentative smile. “Seems like you’re always feeding me. Taking care of me.”
Guilt lodges in my throat. “I’m sorry to give you the wrong impression. The truth is, I’m a selfish asshole. Stick around long enough and you’ll see.”
“If you say so.” She pads toward the island nevertheless. Her feet are bare, her toenails painted a pretty pink. “No one’s tried to feed me in a long time. Before you did last weekend, I mean.” She looks a little sad as she says it, and it makes me wonder about her childhood and if maybe her parents weren’t around much.
I clear my throat. “I am a pro at ordering pizza, so anytime.”
“Still.” She slides onto a stool and opens the pizza box, closing her eyes and breathing in through her nose. She moans softly.
“Would you and the pizza like to be alone?”
She coughs out a laugh and shakes her head. “Sorry. Tonight, I am officially reuniting with carbs without any booze to blame for it.” She sighs. “This could get a little intense.”
I chuckle. “Good to know. So does this mean you and Chuck . . .”
Her gaze flicks to mine. “I think he threw the fight. No. I know he did.”
Well, shit. “He told you?”
“No. He denied it, but I’ve seen him fight a dozen times before, and . . . tonight was different.” She stares at the pizza box, but I know she’s not seeing it. “He knew my brother bet on him—hell, he’s the one who convinced Nathan to make the bet. He’d been trying to get me to put money on him for months, and then he met my brother and left me alone about it because Nathan is the gambler in the family. And now I think he played us.” She shakes her head. “Who does that?”
Dirty assholes with no integrity.