Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
He threw a pillow at my head.
I was still smiling when I got into my car.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Brax
I wondered if it was possible to get hives from being at a lacrosse game. It had just started, and I already felt itchy while lingering by the stands, with cheering fans all around me, worshipping the men on the field.
I was pretty sure I secretly liked one of those men. A lot.
Ty wasn’t what I’d expected, and I was still trying to work out what to do about that, or how I felt about it. My brain was saying ignore, ignore, ignore, but Tyson Langley wasn’t the type of guy to be ignored. I smiled at the thought.
I didn’t know much about lacrosse, but I’d read up on it before coming. The truth was, I’d planned to make his game even before his mom had teased me about it. I was curious about Ty on the field and, shit, he deserved someone there to support him. He’d been pretty fucking supportive of me lately.
As my gaze scanned the stands, though, I realized how ridiculous that line of thinking was. He didn’t need me there to support him. He had hundreds of people there for that, people wearing his jersey and cheering his name.
I wasn’t an idiot. Logically, I’d known that would be the case, but it was a whole new experience seeing it, knowing how much he thrived on that kind of thing and how different we were.
When the crowd cheered, my stare snapped to the field. Ty had caught the ball in his scoop and was running it down the field. Their uniforms were gold and purple, and looked like basketball shorts and a jersey with short sleeves.
Ty threw the ball to Jeff Watson, then ran ahead, and Watson thrust it back toward him. Ty dodged defenders before doing some crazy-ass jump-and-throw thing where he looked like he was a fucking ninja. I swear everything happened in slow motion right up until the ball landed in the net, and then everyone erupted in applause.
Ty jumped in the air again, this time celebrating, a few of his teammates slapping him on the back. He smiled so big, it took over his whole face. And then he looked at the crowd, and…shit…shit. I’d been hoping I could watch without Ty realizing. When somehow he brightened even more, I knew he’d spotted me.
Ty nodded in that cocky way he did before pointing at me with his lacrosse stick, then jogging back down the field again. When I glanced around, I noticed a group of girls looking at me. A few guys too. Ty was fucking hot, and everyone knew he was bi, so there was equal opportunity to wonder what the fuck was going on with us.
And they were. Apparently, Ty must not have pointed to people from the lacrosse field often. Noted.
This whole thing didn’t feel like it had when I’d watched Wayne play. Ty didn’t hide the attention he gave me, didn’t keep himself from looking for me, and that somehow managed to wipe out all those old memories that haunted me. Fuck Wayne.
By the second quarter, I was in the stands rather than lingering in the shadows like a creepy stalker.
By the third, I was cheering. Fucking Ty. What had he done to me? There was a small possibility I liked watching lacrosse now. Actually, that was a lie. I liked watching Ty play lacrosse. Hooking up with him had somehow given me a lobotomy.
And Christ, he was good. I couldn’t count the number of times he’d glanced my direction during the game, this eager look on his face like he cared what I thought, like he wanted to win more because I was there.
When I heard a loud rumble of laughter, I turned and saw Peyton Miller with a group of football guys. How had this become my life? I was at a sports game, watching the guy I was sleeping with play, while surrounded by even more jocks from other sports?
The biggest kicker was, I didn’t feel the urge to rush to change it.
I stopped myself mid-leap when the Kings scored again. I wasn’t going that far in my annoying enjoyment of Ty’s game. But right at the end of the fourth, when Ty scored again, pushing the Kings to a three-point lead and cementing the win, I couldn’t stop myself from shoving to my feet and clapping.
As the stands began emptying around me, my goal had been to peace the fuck outta there before Ty could get to me, but I didn’t. I lingered, hands shoved into my pockets as people went onto the field to congratulate the team.
There was a big group around him because this was Ty and that was how he rolled. I didn’t head over to him, just waited my turn for a chance to talk to the king of lacrosse, but somehow, he managed to move closer and closer to me.