Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Reese looks like she wants to drop her fist, fastening an I don't give a shit what you think glare on her face that’s only deepened from all of the banter that they've had back and forth since Clay's party a couple months ago.
Ever since then, Nash has made it a goal to get under her skin whenever possible, and while she pretends like she doesn't enjoy it, as one of her best friends, I can tell that she doesn't mind the attention.
Nash pauses before us, not even paying her raised camera or her fist any mind. He looks directly at her, flashing her a smile that would’ve made my knees shake if I had any inkling of attraction to him at all.
As it was, I've known Nash since my father became the coach of the Badgers, and while I enjoyed his company, it’s more a brotherly affection and protection than anything else.
“Fist bumps?” he asks Reese, tilting his head slightly as his eyes drag up and down her body. “You can do better than that, Reese’s Pieces,” he says. “You think that's the footage you need to put the Badgers on the viral track?”
Reese drops her fist, pursing her lips as she returns his brazen examination. “I guess I could be like you,” she says in an ultra-sweet voice. “And just post videos of myself at bar after bar, exclusive club after exclusive club, and let the people only see surface-level bullshit. That’s what pays the bills, right?”
I hold back a laugh, instantly turning my attention anywhere else than between the two currently having an intense staring competition right next to me.
“The media never gives me a break,” he says. “So what if I want to take it into my own hands?”
“Gets those endorsement deals too,” she says.
“Like that’s a bad thing? Do you turn down easy money?”
“I don’t sell fantasies to lust-starved women.”
“Always such a sharp tongue for me,” he says. “Did I hurt you in a past life? Seems like you've been angry with me since the moment you met me.”
Well, I know that isn’t true, especially since Reese has been crushing on him since sophomore year of college.
“I don't know you well enough to be angry at you, Stokehill,” she says, electing to use his last name even though they've been around each other enough for her to use his first. She did it to irk him, but to be fair, just about everything he did was to irk her.
Nash steps a little closer to her, and her phone drops a fraction from where she'd been holding it up. “We can change that, you know,” he says, his tone low but definitely not low enough that I can't hear it. “You want to crucify me for selling a fantasy, but it seems like you’ve studied me enough to know there’s more to it than that. All you have to do is take me up on my offer.”
“More power to people who can handle bed hopping, but it’s not my thing,” she says.
“Ouch,” he says, holding a hand over his chest like she’s wounded him. “You really think…” He sighs, holding that strong smile even when it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You should try it sometime. Might help you…relax.”
“Keep dreaming,” she finishes, but I can hear the tremble in her voice and hope that he doesn't.
From the way he smirks down at her, I'm guessing he does.
“Oh, I do dream, Reese’s Pieces,” he says dragging out the nickname he gave her months ago just enough that I'm about to start blushing. “And you and your smart mouth have starred in just about every one of them recently.” He flashes her a wink, gives me a brotherly nod, then heads toward the locker room.
Reese blows out a breath, shaking out her muscles like she’d tensed them during the interaction.
“Anyway,” Reese says, returning to her position as another team member walks by and gives her a fist bump. “Tell me again why you haven't told Lawson?”
I gape at my best friend for a minute, then shake my head with a chuckle. “Going to ignore everything that just happened with Nash, cool.”
She shrugs and smiles at me. “We were talking about you before he came down this hallway, not me.”
I blow out a breath, having secretly wished the interaction with Nash would’ve taken the spotlight off of me, but I get why she’s concerned.
“I don't know,” I say. “There are only a handful of people who know the truth, and I kind of like it that way. I've mostly earned the respect of the team, but not everybody has come around. If it gets out who my father is, everything I've worked for will be put into question.”
“And you think that he’ll tell the other players?”
I consider, then shake my head. “No. Not if I ask him not to.”