Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
I leaned against the counter and finished my water. My head was beginning to clear. Of course, that was what I’d thought before I’d almost pulled my dick out of my jeans. Maybe I just needed a good night’s sleep. It had been a long day. And a weird one. I could never have dreamed up a scenario featuring Gabe Chadwick in my house after this morning. But here he was.
I gave him a thorough once-over as he walked into the kitchen. And again, the first thing that crossed my mind was, “Wow, he’s really fucking hot.”
“Nice place.”
“Thanks. Do you want some water or something?” I asked, awkwardly pointing at the fridge.
“No, thanks. I’ve had enough tonight,” Gabe replied with a laugh.
I should have said good-bye then and escorted him to the door, but I had a strong desire to keep him talking and maybe dispel the weird admiring thoughts going through my brain. Yes, Gabe was a good-looking guy, but I shouldn’t be fixating on his long eyelashes and the way the kitchen light framed him in a halo of sorts. I couldn’t let him go until my brainwaves returned to normal, and he was the same annoyingly smart and talented opponent I’d played against occasionally for years. The thing was, I didn’t really know him and at that moment, I wanted to.
“Where do you live?” I asked.
“About fifteen minutes away. I scored an apartment by campus. I have one roommate. Brent’s a volleyball player. We might get a third to cut expenses, but I don’t want to share a room, so that’ll be up to him.”
“Sharing a room gets old fast. Evan and I knew we wanted to live together, but I’d probably smother him in his sleep if I had to listen to him snoring every night a few feet away from me,” I said in a lame-ass effort to keep him talking.
Gabe chuckled. “That would be rough. Evan seems like a cool guy. Is he as neat as you? This house is spotless.”
“No, that’s all me. I can’t help it. I have a thing about order. Evan’s a slob. You should see his room. At least he tries in shared spaces. I don’t bug him about his unmade bed, scattered clothes, and random dishes he leaves on his nightstand as long as he keeps the bathroom and kitchen tidy. He’s been on the receiving end of a couple of classic Vaughn meltdowns,” I said with a self-deprecating shrug.
“A Vaughn meltdown,” Gabe repeated. “That must be a version of what I experienced this morning when you tried to drown me.”
“Fuck off.” I laughed, then looked away quickly when a rush of heat flooded my cheeks. Oh, my God. Please don’t let me blush. Not now. He’ll know something’s wrong.
Gabe stepped closer and cocked his head. “Are you blushing?”
Great.
“I don’t blush.”
“Whatever you say. So what’s a Vaughn meltdown out of the water like? Do you scream and throw shit?”
“No, I save the physical stuff for the pool. In my normal life, I tend to get passive-aggressive.”
“How so?” he prodded.
“Well, last week Evan left his sneakers on the coffee table. I repeat. On the coffee table. That kinda pissed me off, so I threw them outside. Usually he’d laugh it off, but there was a thick marine layer the next morning, and his shoes were sopping wet when he found them. He wasn’t happy.”
“What did he do?”
“He hid the remote and my car keys, and he wouldn’t give either back until he blasted me for my passive-aggressive asshole tendencies.”
“So you call each other on your bullshit.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, I guess we do.”
“You’re lucky. You must be good friends,” he commented somewhat wistfully.
“We are. It probably helps that we don’t play the same sport. I’m close to my teammates too, but Evan and Chels are my best friends.”
Gabe shot a puzzled look at me. “Chelsea? You barely said two words to her tonight.”
“How would you know? Were you watching me?”
He looked vaguely uncomfortable when he replied. “No, I just—”
“Well, Chels and I aren’t party friends,” I intercepted before I inadvertently made things awkward. “We’re real-life buddies, if you know what I mean. We bonded over Thoreau in American Lit our sophomore year. We meet for coffee a couple of times a week and talk about school, family, and boring everyday things. But at parties, she’s usually dancing on tables while I hang out in a corner with the other wallflowers. She’s a little wild and I’m…not.”
“So says the guy who’s gonna wake up with a massive hangover,” he teased.
I let out a half laugh. “I’ll be fine. I just need some sleep. Hopefully, the gaping wound in my side won’t keep me awake all night.”
“Right,” Gabe snorted. “Let me see it.”
I pulled my shirt off and gestured at the angry red scratch above my hip. “Do I need a tetanus shot?”