Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
“Thank you, but no.” With that, I turn and walk away. There is a very big part of me that wants to turn around and yell “SIKE” and ask him when and where, but as I get closer to the table where my friends are sitting, I remember why I don’t. Chance has CJ on his lap, and his head is bent as he places a kiss on Aubrey’s shoulder. I want what they have, and dating the sexy Landon Barker isn’t going to get me any closer. I’m not naïve enough to think I can change him. A tiger doesn’t change his stripes, and that’s fine, I’m good with that. I just can’t bend my will and date him when I know it’s not going to go anywhere.
Taking my seat next to Aubrey, I pass her the extra napkins. I focus on my food, and on my friends, and try like hell to ignore my body’s reaction to Landon. I ignore the way I have to wiggle in my seat, to ward off the desire that my body craves. I won’t deny he would be fun. Hell, I’m not even sure that fun describes what it would be like to be with Landon Barker. More like an out-of-body experience, and I’m sure it would be a moment I would never forget, but I also know me, and sex leads to feelings… and that would be tragic. As if my eyes are connected to him, they seek him out. I find him standing about fifteen feet away laughing and cutting up with a few of the players with not a care in the world. He obviously isn’t having the same struggle as I am. He’s not warring with himself over my rejection. He’s not trying to cool his body’s reaction to me.
Lucky Bastard.
Chapter 2
Landon
It’s been a long three weeks of camp, but we’re ready. Both rookies and veterans are on point, and I can feel it. This is going to be another great season. The final whistle blows and a collective cheer goes up among us. Mostly because we’re ready to get to our own beds, and for those who are married and have kids, home to their families. Me? I’m looking forward to my bed. It’s pillow-soft, and exactly what I would imagine it feels like sleeping on clouds, and it’s calling my name. But first… “Bateman, wait up,” I call to our new kicking coach, Chance Bateman.
He stops and turns to look for whoever happens to be calling his name. I jog up to him and grin. “Can I ask for a favor?” I’ve been thinking nonstop about Emma, and it kind of pisses me off. No other woman has managed to keep me on the hook this long. Then again, I’ve been tied up at training camp. It might also have a little something to do with the fact that she turned me down. Cold. That’s never happened to me. Not that I can remember. It’s also a little her. She’s a fucking knockout. Long, dark curly locks and green eyes I could get lost in. That’s if I let myself. I can imagine the way they would heat as I pushed inside her. I shift my stance, my cock already on board with my imagination.
“Depends,” he says with a laugh.
“Emma,” I say, throwing her name out there.
“What about her?” he asks, standing taller, squaring his shoulders.
“Can I get her number?”
“Did you ask her for it?”
“Yeah, she shot me down.”
A slow grin tilts his lips. “Did she now?”
“Laugh it up,” I say with a grin of my own. “Come on, Coach,” I urge him.
“Look, Landon, you seem like a good guy. Emma is my wife’s best friend, and a close friend of mine as well. I’m not just going to hand her number over. You want her, you have to work for her.” He stares me down, begging me to argue with him.
“How do you expect me to do that? I don’t even know her last name. The only connection I have to her is you.” I’m well aware I’m starting to sound desperate and, in a way, I am. I can’t break my perfect record. She can’t be the first woman to ever turn me down. That just won’t do.
“Fine, I’ll throw you a bone. Her name is Emma Deaton.” He slides his hands into the pockets of his shorts and the bastard full-on grins at me. He’s enjoying this way too much.
“Guy code and all that. Come on, man. You have to give me more than that.”
“I don’t have to do anything but love my wife and son. Well, and pay taxes.” I give him a pleading look, and he sighs. “Fine, she works with my wife at the South Bay Animal Shelter. That’s all you’re getting so don’t ask for more from me. And”—he points his index finger at me—“don’t make me regret telling you.”