Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 104745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Skin.
Smooth, hairless chest.
His nipples aren’t visible either, but I imagine the whole package is appealing. Sexy.
Shit.
I look a total mess!
He smiles, mouth surrounded by a dark five o’clock shadow. It makes his teeth appear whiter.
Yum.
“So this is what you look like with no makeup on and in your pajamas, eh?”
I scoff. “You’ve seen me with no makeup on before. I don’t usually wear makeup to class.” I squirm under his inspection, wishing I had on a sexier top—tank top or a threadbare tee shirt perhaps—to tease him a little, instead of this ratty old crewneck.
If Drake Coulter were in this room with me, I feel as though he’d be undressing me with his eyes even though I’m wearing a sweatshirt and no makeup. His piercing dark gaze watches me as I lie here waiting for what he has to say that he wanted to say in person.
“Now what were we tawkin’ ‘bout?” he drawls. “We were discussin’ the girl situation.”
We were.
I nod.
“Let me explain somethin’ to you. I couldn't care less about girls. In fact, I couldn’t have given a shit about datin’ anyone until I met you. Isn’t that how it works? You go about your daily life, mindin’ your own business until you get cracked upside the skull by a pretty girl.”
“Er.” I pull a face. “Not sure if that’s how I’d describe it, but go on.”
“Everything I do, I put my all into. I don’t go into anything half-assed. If I did, I’d probably be a second stringer on the football team and not a starter heading for the draft, you feel me?”
My lips twitch. “I feel you.”
His shameless plug almost makes me giggle.
“If I’m gonna date someone, I’m going to date them. Not fuck around, not pay attention to other women. What do I need a harem for? Do I look like a goddamn moron? One sassy girl is enough for me.”
He did not just say harem. How does he even know what that means?
I don’t ask.
Rather, I let him babble on.
“I don’t have girls hangin’ on me. Yes, they flirt with me at parties and bars, but everyone knows I don’t have a girlfriend. It’s one of the things I get asked in interviews.” He lowers his voice to make it even deeper. “Drake Colter, would you care to comment on your love life at this time?” He raises his voice so he sounds feminine. “I don’t have one.” He grins. “See?”
“Wow.” I laugh. “Is that how it goes?”
“Yes, ma’am. If I don’t have a love life, what does it matter when girls flirt? Now. If I was seein’ someone, that would make it a whole different ball game, wouldn’t it?”
Slowly, I concede his point, wanting to ask “how do you know you’d be faithful with girls throwing themselves at you?” but I keep the question to myself.
“I’m not that kind of guy, Daisy.” His voice is stern. His expression serious.
“Thanks for explaining it to me.”
He watches me through the tiny screen for a few wordless moments, literally penetrating me with that cool stare.
It’s unsettling and exciting.
I shiver.
“I talked to my brother about this.”
“Your brother?” My brows go up. “Did he tell you why he left the party without me?” I still haven’t spoken or gotten ahold of Drew, so I’m hoping Drake can fill me in.
“No, not Drew. Dallas, my older brother.”
My mind hadn’t even considered either of his other brothers. “What did you tell him?”
“Well.” Drake shifts on his bed, propping an arm behind his head. I try not to home in on the bulging bicep next to his ear, but it’s almost impossible. “Ryann is with him for the weekend, and she’s kind of aware of the situation. She knew I downloaded the dating app for Drew and that I’d been on it, but she didn’t know about you. I had to fill her in on the context of the rest.”
I nod to show him I’m listening.
“First, he told me I was a fuckin’ idiot for downloadin’ the app to begin with. Then he told me I was a moron for matchin’ with women and pretendin’ to be Drew. Then he lectured me for going on a date with you as Drew and lyin’ about that.” He sighs. “The whole conversation made me feel like a puppy.”
“I mean, all of this is a given.”
It occurs to me all of a sudden that Drake is more sensitive and caring than he lets on or that he’s even aware of. The fact that he called his older brother to get advice…
I shiver again.
“…anyway, he told me there’s nothin’ I can do to make you forget, but I can show you I’m not an asshole by spendin’ time with you. Which I’d already planned on doin’.”
His Southern accent is literally about to make me drool; if I closed my eyes and pictured his fingers trailing over my bare skin while he was talking to me, I’d probably get goose bumps. Those big, capable hands that have calluses on each fingertip. The strong forearms. The stubble on his jaw that I can still feel between my thighs.