Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 130380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
“Just because you ask doesn’t mean I have to answer,” I said softly.
I reached up for the window, ready to close it, but Leo didn’t budge.
“Can I have a second chance to right whatever it is I did wrong?”
I stared at the floor so I wouldn’t have to stare at him, and my heart thumped loudly with the desire to tell him yes.
But then I latched onto the truth in his question.
He still didn’t even know what he’d done.
He still didn’t realize who I was.
“Goodnight, Leo,” I whispered.
I held my shaking hands on the window frame, listening to the way his ragged breaths matched mine until he finally, wordlessly, backed out of my room.
I slid the window shut without another glance in his direction, pulling the blinds closed before I had the chance to change my mind.
Leo
“Are you sure this isn’t too much?” Braden asked, surveying the table spread.
Kyle had definitely understood the assignment, and used it as an excuse to stay in the kitchen most of the day while Braden and I deep-cleaned the house. The folding table that was typically sticky from beer and littered with red Solo cups was now cleaned and covered by a white tablecloth and copious amounts of food. Everything from bruschetta and chicken kebabs to a mushroom risotto and pesto skirt steak spread out like a buffet. We even lit candles to give it an elegant touch.
I slid my hands into my pockets, looking around at the house that was cleaner than it had been probably ever. “Considering what we’re about to suggest to her, I don’t think so.”
“She’s never going to go for it,” Braden said.
I didn’t argue, because honestly, I felt the same. If Mary wanted to cut off my head when I bought her candles or offered her a jacket when she was cold, there was zero chance she’d be open to what we were about to propose.
The memory of last week on the roof made my jaw tense, and I was sick of how many times I’d replayed every second, wondering what triggered her to blow me off. It seemed no matter what I did to try to build a bridge between us, it only pissed her off more. I liked when we joked about it, when I teased her and she gave it right back.
But sometimes when she looked at me, I saw actual disdain.
And it killed me that I didn’t understand why.
Clearly, before she moved in with us, she thought I was a player, an asshole, just another cocky athlete who thinks he’s too good for everyone. And that was the persona I painted, the image that got me any girl I wanted and earned me the respect of teammates before they’d even set foot on the field with me. My reputation made up their minds about who I was before I even entered the room, and that made it easy to keep a top spot, to intimidate those who considered battling me for my position and scare the shit out of anyone on the opposite team who had to try to defend me.
But Mary had lived with us for a month and a half.
Couldn’t she see through the bullshit façade by now?
From all the little comments she loved to drop, I knew she could.
And yet still, she couldn’t stand me.
It pissed me off as much as it made me determined to change her mind.
The memory of her in my letterman jacket soothed me like a balm, making a smile curl on my lips when the picture came to mind. Her cheeks had flushed such a pretty shade of pink, her eyes sparkling a bit when she held it tighter around her. And seeing my name on the back of that jacket, like she was wrapping me around her, like she was mine to claim…
I shook out of my thoughts when the front door blew open. Mary, Giana, and Riley piled in, their arms linked as they tried to catch their breath from laughing.
It was a sight I wasn’t used to, Mary all carefree and silly like that. She was red-faced from laughing so hard, hair a wave of gold where it fanned over her shoulders, and fuck if she wasn’t an absolute knock out in a brown velvet dress that was so short, I was absolutely positive she’d show her ass if she bent over in it. Its thin straps hung loose on her shoulders, and I let my eyes rove all her exposed skin, appreciating how she could wear the simplest dress or shirt and shorts and still turn heads because of the ink and piercings that covered her from head to toe.
That, and the fact that she should have to wear a sign that said dangerous curves to warn the poor suckers who walked into walls daily from gawking at her.