Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 131789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Shit. That’s what I’m afraid of.
“Maybe you can devise a fun scheme to avoid the whole thing,” Sloane suggests in a mock helpful tone. “Lure him into a crate and ship it off to Siberia like some Bugs Bunny shit.”
I nod vigorously. “Solid plan.”
“RJ.”
“Yes, cupcake?”
“You can’t fight him again.” She sighs. “You can’t compete with Duke’s level of bloodlust.”
“I’ll figure something out,” I promise her. “Trust me. I always do.”
She seems unconvinced, but drops the issue. “Fine. Are you going to come over here and kiss me already?”
When she takes a step toward me, I take a step back.
“Nope,” I inform her. Yesterday I made myself a promise to help her keep her promise, and damned if I let both of us get sidetracked. “We’re here to work. What’s your paper on?”
She narrows her eyes. “You’re serious.”
“As a heart attack.” I reach for my own bag to remove my laptop. “What’s it on?”
After a second, her shoulders sag in defeat. “European history. I’m supposed to discuss the methods the Spanish used in order to spread Catholicism to the New World.”
Christ. I’m almost sorry I’m forcing her to do this.
Out loud, I lie and say, “Sounds interesting.”
“Stop lying to me, RJ.” But there’s humor in her voice.
We settle on opposite sides of the bench with our respective laptops and proceed to spend the next little while in total silence. I work on a new script I’m hoping to unleash on Duke’s financial world. At this point I’m running out of ideas about what else to look for.
I’ve just finished tapping out a few lines when I sense Sloane’s gaze on me. I turn to catch her staring at me with what’s becoming a familiar gleam.
“No,” I say sternly.
She frowns. “No, what?”
“No, we’re not fooling around.”
Her mouth falls open. “Someone thinks highly of himself. I wasn’t thinking about fooling around.”
“Bullshit.” I swipe my tongue over my bottom lip, which always goes dry when Sloane looks at me with kiss-me eyes. “You totally were. And you’re not getting a piece of this until you finish your paper.”
My firm tone must amuse her, because her lips curve slightly. “What are you, my dad?”
I blanch. “God, don’t ever say that again. Although I guess I’d be okay if you called me daddy sometimes.”
That makes her throw her head back and laugh. “You wish.” Then, with her eyes narrowed, she very deliberately adjusts the hem of her skirt, flashing a hint of upper thigh. Fuck. This girl will be the death of me. “You really don’t feel like taking a break?”
“Nope.” I’m lying. I want nothing more than to slip my hand beneath that skirt and finger her until she’s moaning my name. But I won’t.
“You could always sell me one of your online papers,” she says, lifting a brow. “Fenn told Casey you’ve got a lucrative side hustle going.”
Swear to God, Fenn doesn’t know the meaning of the word “secret.” Blabbermouth, that one.
“I do,” I agree, since there’s no point hiding it from Sloane. She won’t tell her dad.
“Then why haven’t you offered to help me out? If you did, my essay would be done and we could be making better use of our time…” She trails off enticingly.
As much as I want to pull her into my lap and shove my tongue down her throat, I shake my head at her. “I haven’t offered because you’re not that person,” I say simply.
That startles her. She chews on her lip for a beat. “You’re right. I’m not that person,” she admits. “I can’t cheat.”
“Exactly. And since you made a huge deal about wanting to get your grades up, you don’t get this”—with a crude grin, I cup my package—“until you finish that.” I nod toward her laptop.
“You’re cruel,” she accuses, but I don’t miss the flicker of pleasure in her eyes. She likes that I’m holding her feet to the fire, forcing her to accomplish a goal. I get the feeling her dad doesn’t push her at all when it comes to this shit. He just assumes she’s doing whatever she needs to do.
Fuck, and I totally just compared myself to her dad. Willingly, this time.
But I suppose I don’t mind taking an authoritative role once in a while if it helps Sloane achieve her dreams.
Later that night, Fenn summons the brain trust to our room for a strategy session. Turns out I don’t know the first thing about training or preparing for a fight. I figured I’d lift some weights and maybe watch some boxing matches, but Fenn had been horrified by that idea.
“You need resistance training,” Silas insists.
Lawson flips through the pages of the school paper. “You’ll have to become much faster to be any sort of match for Duke.”
“He’s got power,” Fenn says, as if I don’t have first-hand experience.
“Yes, I remember.” Silas is nodding.