Hands Down Read online Mariana Zapata

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Romance, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 191
Estimated words: 182070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
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His hand slipped out of mine, and then both of them were on my face, cupping my cheeks. “Hey, shh. We’re gettin’ it back, all right? You’ll still get to quit your job. We’ll make these hackers regret ever even hearin’ your name by the time we’re done with them, yeah? You don’t need to worry. I’ve got you, kiddo. I’m not goin’ anywhere.” His head ducked, and that warm mouth brushed across my forehead. “We’ll go to Trev’s, you call WatchTube, I’ll make you some soup, and I’ll call too. And if they won’t do anything, we’ll unleash our secret weapon: Trev.”

He was killing me.

I had learned to trust my instincts over time, and they all got fried in his presence. Tilting my head back, I looked at him through blurry eyes. “Zac, you know you’ve paid me back about a million times over for the snake thing, right?”

I thought the corners of his mouth tilted up, but I couldn’t be sure when my eyes were trying their best to turn into water fountains. I felt his thumb rasp over my chin. “We’re not even close to bein’ even. Come here, gimme another hug, and then let’s get in the car and do what we need to do.”

I didn’t nod or anything. I went straight into his arms and wrapped my good one around his waist instead of his neck, one of his going around the middle of my back and another around the back of my neck. Zac curled around me and into me, his presence warm and steady. Eternal.

“You scared the hell outta me earlier, kiddo. Tellin’ me you’re at urgent care.” His fingers nudged a spot right behind my ear that made my knees weak. “Don’t you dare ever do that to me again, okay? Next time just don’t get hurt, is that a deal?”

I snickered, watery and light, but nodded against him.

“What else you need?” he asked, nuzzling my head while his fingers did that thing by my ear again. “What else will make you feel better, huh?”

I only had to think about it for a second. “Can I smack one?”

His arms jerked, and I felt his chest do a little puff. “Are you askin’ for what I think you’re askin’?”

“Yes.” Pressing my nose into the bone between his pecs, I said, “It’ll make me feel better; I know it will.”

He was trying his hardest not to laugh, but I could feel him doing it. “If it’ll make you feel better,” he said, and I could hear the amusement in his voice.

He took his time pulling away. He gave me a long look too before turning around with a smirk on his face.

Zac glanced at me over his shoulder, then popped a hip to the side… which also popped his butt cheek out. His smile pulled his mouth into the best grin of all time, all teasing and loving and amazing. Just like Zac.

Then I did it.

I smacked the underside of his butt.

And I was right. It did make me feel better.

Chapter Eighteen

Two days later, I was driving home and OLD FART ZAC flashed across the screen of my cell as an incoming call.

I didn’t think anything of it. I had seen him the night before after his game—the second loss under him—and he’d seemed all right. He’d even done a shoulder shimmy out of nowhere while sitting on Trevor’s couch, and I’d scratched his back. He’d oohed and aahed the whole time. I figured he was good and not totally down on himself. So I answered his call with “Hey, old man.”

“Peewee, you heard back about your channel?”

I smiled even though it wasn’t necessarily a totally happy one. “Not today. Apparently, they’re very busy. But they said they’re working on it.”

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “What are you up to then?”

“On my way home from the grocery store. You?”

He’d groaned at the reminder I was driving around with one hand, like I hadn’t been driving with one hand for the last ten years. He’d gotten on my case about it after he’d driven me back to Maio House following my meltdown in the parking lot of the urgent care and after going to his house for soup—that he’d made at home just for me, with meatballs, spinach, rice, and beans—and several phone calls to WatchTube headquarters from me, him, and even CJ.

One of my viewers had emailed me yesterday to tell me that they saw my channel for sale on a website that sold hacked WatchTube channels, and all my videos had been taken down. Which then resulted in me blowing up and calling WatchTube again. And, truthfully, crying again.

After everything I’d gone through, the fear of losing it, of having to stay at Maio House after all, terrified me.

Forty-eight hours later, I still hadn’t gotten my channel back. They knew what was going on and claimed to be doing something. Personally, I didn’t get what the hell there was to “do” other than take it away and give it back to me, but…


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