Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Kathleen’s eyes go wide and she stomps her foot on the floor, making her tits jiggle around as they spill out of her bra. She lets out a loud huff, snatches her shirt off the couch, and rips it over her head. Blake smirks, watching the show and a second later, she flies out the door.
“So,” he questions slowly. “I’m assuming you’re talking to me now?”
I press my lips into a firm line, studying the kid that I love so goddamn much. “Not exactly,” I tell him, striding across the house until I reach his training bag. I scoop the basketball off the top and walk toward the front door. “I’m going to allow you the chance to beg on your knees for forgiveness while also playing HORSE because I need to practice my shots if I’m ever going to have a chance of beating Slade one day.”
Blake scoffs before meeting my eyes. “That’s really a thing now? You and Slade?”
I shrug, glancing away. “I guess…I mean, it’s super new and it just kind of happened. Actually, I don’t think I really understand how it happened but it did and it’s kind of growing on me.”
“You realize how fucked up that is, right? One minute you’re at each other’s throat and the next, he’s walking through here with you thrown over his shoulder. Do I need to give you the safe sex and ‘no kids before you’re eighty’ speech?”
I raised an unimpressed brow. “You want to talk to me about what’s fucked up because I have a list and your big mouth is right at the top of it.”
Blake hangs his head and lets out a deep sigh. He glances back up. “You know how sorry I am about that,” he says, getting up off the couch and walking towards me. He takes the ball from my hand and gives me big puppy dog eyes, desperate to win me over. “I never intended to hurt you, Sky. You know that. I thought he was trying to get under your skin and I saw the tears. I just snapped. I want to protect you so badly and he just…are you really sure about dating that guy?”
“Blake.”
“Fine,” he says with a roll of his eyes before focusing back on mine. “Will you forgive me? I’ll beg on my knees if you really want me to.”
I consider it a moment before stealing the ball right back from his hands and tossing it to the floor. I pull him into a tight hug and he instantly wraps his warm arms around me. “I’ll forgive you on one condition.”
“Fuck me,” he says under his breath. “Go on. Hit me with it.”
I grin, pulling back to make sure I can see his face. “Every time you address me for the next week, you must call me ‘Your Majesty’ and give me one of those big sweeping bows, no matter where we are; at school, at home, during a game.” Blake groans and I continue. “Oh, and for the record, ‘My Queen’ and ‘Your Royal Highness’ are also acceptable, in fact, they’re encouraged.”
Blake stares, his mouth open and eyes unblinking. “You’re shitting me, right? I can’t be bowing to you like that during a game.”
I suck in a breath through my teeth. “Damn, that’s no good. I guess we have no deal.”
“Shit,” he grunts to himself while scooping up the ball. His gaze falls back to mine with irritation shining brightly. “Fine. I’ll call you ‘Your Majesty’ and bow like a fucking idiot.”
“Even during your game?”
“Yes. Even during the game.”
“Good,” I grin wide, stealing the ball right out of his hands and spinning on my heel. I reach for the door handle and look back over my shoulder. “You know I’m going to kick your ass, right? Did you see my aim with Kathleen’s big head? I’m on fire.”
He rolls his eyes but nonetheless follows me out the door, knowing just as well as I do that I have absolutely no chance in hell of beating him. The only way I’d ever beat him is if his arms were tied behind his back and he was blindfolded. Same goes for Slade, I guess. The two of them are so ridiculously good. I can’t wait to see how far they go.
I walk out the door with Blake on my heels and as we step out into the fresh air, the ball is instantly bounced, just like any time Blake has a ball in his hand. “You’ll never guess what happened,” he comments, walking out to the drive to where Ben had set up a hoop for Blake after we moved in.
“What?”
“Someone fucked with Damian’s car while we were at training. You should have seen him. He fucking lost it.”
“No shit,” I laugh as Blake starts dribbling the ball and shooting it through the hoop. “What’d they do to his car?”