Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
I freeze at those words. Always be early.
Like we’re doing this indefinitely. Like this vacation doesn’t end.
That feels so surreal.
And yet, as I turn around in his arms, I say softly, “Good.”
His lips curve up in a hopeful grin. “Yeah?”
That question tugs on my heart. “Yes,” I say, and then, because I need some space from him and this storm of emotions, and since a girl has to clean up after sex, I grab my bra and head to the bathroom as an outrageously risky ray of hope shoots through me.
Could we do this? Would he want to? Could I handle it? I didn’t think so a few weeks ago, but I’m starting to wonder now if it’s possible.
The questions don’t terrify me anymore. They kind of…intrigue me.
Maybe even excite me.
I leave the bathroom, floating on possibilities as I find a fresh pair of red panties, then redo my lingerie. I zip up a short, tight nurse’s uniform that lands in the middle of my thighs and shows off one of my assets that Carter loves best—I might as well be Nurse Tata.
I strut out to the living room to show him my costume.
He whistles his approval. I don’t think we’re going to win best costume.
But with my red lace bra peeking through and him as a sexy, shirtless doctor—in scrubs, a stethoscope, and an open lab coat that displays that absolutely fantastic canvas of a chest—it feels like our costumes are just for the two of us. A private commentary on our attraction for each other.
We head out. On the street, he opens the passenger door to his car, then loops an arm around me and presses a quick, firm kiss to my lips.
That’s all new too. A public kiss.
Suddenly, this thing between us doesn’t feel private anymore. Our after-hours affair doesn’t seem like a secret.
My breath hitches in excitement.
I feel warm and fizzy everywhere. Hopeful, too, from this sort of public declaration. Especially when he says, “Glad you liked the surprise.”
“I loved it,” I say, breathy.
There’s that warm gaze again, and it makes my heart pound. Carter doesn’t say anything about the kiss or the change in PDA. He doesn’t make it seem like it was a big deal.
Maybe it’s not to him?
Or maybe it’s just a natural next step.
He goes to the driver’s side of his car and takes us to the party. I don’t have any more answers as we head inside. In fact, I have so many more questions pinging through my mind. But striding up the steps to Jason and Beck’s house together, dressed like this—like a couple, as Elodie said—feels like a natural next step too.
37
THE YOU EFFECT
Carter
When Beck swings open the door, he surveys my outfit, shaking his head in amusement. “You never miss a chance to be shirtless.”
Before I can fashion a comeback, Rachel is on it with, “And he never should.”
A smug smile takes over my face. I work hard for this body, and her appreciation of it makes every chest press, biceps curl, and crunch worthwhile.
Beck’s husband, Jason, joins him at the door, dressed as a cowboy, complete with a ten-gallon hat and blade of hay in the corner of his mouth. Beck’s wearing a fireman’s turnouts. The pulsing beat of pop music from the house grows louder, while the dark lighting inside sets the spooky mood. Behind the hosts, zombies and devils dance and drink.
Jason surveys me, then my date, with obvious costume approval. “Well, the doctor is in,” he says, and turns to Rachel. “And I suspect you’ll be treating all the boo-boos in the house.”
I narrow my eyes, growling.
Jason cracks up. “You jealous fucker.”
I growl some more, then we head inside in front of them. Rachel lifts a questioning brow. “Something stuck in your throat?”
“I swear, if any of my asshole teammates hit on you, I will rip them a new one,” I grumble.
Where did that come from? Oh, just the depths of my caveman soul.
Rachel laughs in surprise. “Noted.” She squeezes my arm again. “But I’m here with you. Why would they hit on me?”
She asks it so earnestly, but I know how straight dudes who make millions playing ball can act with women—like they can have anyone they want.
A minute later, our kicker weaves past us, stops, spins around, and meets Rachel’s eyes. “I scraped my knee. Can you help me, nurse?”
Called it. “Fuck off,” I say.
Hamlin appears next, in Black Panther gear, clearing his throat. “I have a sore throat, nurse. Will you look at my tongue?”
I bet Beck put the guys up to this to fuck with me.
“Sure. Stick it out,” Rachel says.
Hamlin complies, and I have no choice but to smack him upside the head. Gently. Well, mostly. “Your tongue is fucking fine, Ham.”
I tug her into the kitchen, hoping to get away from pervy teammates. But the kitchen is swarming with teammates too. Well, it is a party.