Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 120176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Then how the shirt came down over him, hugging and falling over his back perfectly.
Then, God, the sweatshirt. The hoodie. The hockey hoodie. His last name on the back. His number, 71. The two crossing hockey sticks on the side, and it was a vintage-looking sweatshirt too. The best kind. And I was having a hot flash as he was now pulling on his boxer briefs. He bent down, bringing them up, and his leg muscles. The sweats. How they draped over his lean hips.
Um. Totally thinking I needed to buy Cruz a vibrator, so he had one here for me. Damn sure I was going to replay this later.
It took me a second to realize he was looking at me, looking at him and judging by the smirk, he knew where my thoughts had gone.
I grinned. “No shame here. You’re a hot individual.”
He laughed, raking a hand through his hair before he went to grab the rest of his stuff. Wallet. Keys. His phone was by me on the nightstand. He came over, grabbed it, but stayed, looking at me.
“Hi.”
He moved in closer. “Wanna stay? Or come back? We can do a day of studying and you know. Now that we can text, I think studying is okay. We’re in the same class.” His knee bumped against the bed suggestively. “Whaddaya say? I’m remembering how we first hooked up. Sex apart, the studying was great.”
“You serious?” I sat up, the blanket tucked over my chest.
He nodded, his gaze going to exactly where the blanket was covering. “I can pick up food on the way back.”
I was considering it, but that was a whole day in the hockey house. “What about, I go to my place. You come with food. We study there?”
His eyes lit up. “Even better. More privacy.”
I nodded. He was picking up what I was putting down.
“Sounds like a plan. I’m down. Anything in particular you want me to pick up?”
I shrugged. “It’s up to you.”
A door closed down the hallway, and a moment later, there was a thump on his door. “Head out! I’ll be in the truck.”
That was Barclay.
Cruz headed for the door but looked back. “You good to leave on your own?”
I nodded, laying back down and stretching. I was familiar with how long the Sunday skate usually went. “Might take my time before leaving.”
“Alright. See you later.”
He left but locked his own door before he did.
Because of that, I closed my eyes…
…his bed was so comfortable.
14
MARA
Male voices. A lock was turning. Then, “Dude, you have a chick in your bed.”
I woke up to that.
And, crap.
Cruz came in, dropping his bag and stripping off his hoodie like nothing was happening while Barclay was grinning from the doorway.
He lifted his chin. “’Sup, Daniels?”
I pulled the blanket back over my head and scooted down in the bed, curling into a ball.
“What’s going on?” Atwater was joining the conversation. “Did I hear you say Daniels? She in here?”
“Hiding in the bed.” Barclay’s amusement was heavy.
“Daniels, that’s not a great hiding spot. First place we check is the bed.”
“Go away!” My voice was muffled from the blanket, but they started laughing.
“Guys.” A step creaked under Cruz. He was moving through the room.
“Wait. We’ll go, but Daniels, we’re trying to talk Cruz into a game of laser tag. He’s saying no, but maybe you want to come?”
Laser tag?
I sat up. My head came out of the blanket. Cruz was by the bathroom.
I asked, “The new games place?”
Both nodded. Both wearing eager grins.
I narrowed my eyes. “Not going to take any crap from you guys.”
Atwater shook his head while Barclay held his hands up in surrender.
“We know the deal. Mum’s the word.” Atwater made a show of zipping his lips and tossing the key.
Barclay rolled his eyes, but added, “Cool if you hang out, if you want.”
I glanced at Cruz, who was still standing in the bathroom doorway, waiting and listening. Seeing me looking at him, he raised an eyebrow. “I like laser tag, so up to you.”
Laser tag or a sex/study session? Or laser tag and then a sex/study session?
“I’m in.”
“Yes!” Atwater’s fists went up in the air and he turned to do a jog down the hall.
Barclay’s hand pounded the doorframe, and he pointed at me. “Head out in forty minutes.”
Shit.
“I have to change–”
“You’re good.”
I looked at Cruz. He indicated my clothes. “Those are fine.”
Leggings and a sweatshirt? But I shrugged. I could shower here. “Sounds good.”
“Sweet. Okay. See you down there.” He reached in and pulled the door shut, and I waited, seeing if there’d be some innuendo or a wink, but nothing. I got no teasing and that was refreshing.
Cruz crossed the room, locking the door, and narrowed his eyes at me. “You joining or…” He laughed as I flung the blankets back and led the way, still in my tank top and underwear.