Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 97882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
But while to Holden and every other guy on the team, they probably just saw it as a threat from an overbearing father, I knew better. I knew the real reason he drew those uncrossable lines.
It was because at the end of the day, he didn’t trust me.
Letting me live on my own and assigning me with his quarterback’s PT was one thing. A building block in trust, perhaps. But at the base of it all, he still worried I’d get caught up with a cocky athlete and lose myself again. He worried I’d fall off track, partying, cutting class, fucking every chance I got. In his mind, he’d already imagined a thousand ways that I would meet an early death just like Abby did.
And after all I’d put him through, I couldn’t fault him for that.
I owed it to my father to stay on the straight and narrow, to not let him down, to not fall into any situation that would send him barreling toward a heart attack I knew I’d conjured up one too many times in my short life.
My father may have been stern, but he’d sacrificed for me.
It was my turn to do the same.
“You seriously read this stuff?” Mary asked, snapping me out of my thoughts as she let a book fall from her hands and onto our old, wooden dining room table.
Giana gasped and picked the book up, checking it for bruises before hugging it to her chest. “Of course, I do. And it’s good — amazing, really. You just need to give it a try.”
“Forgive me if I don’t get off on the idea of reading about some mafia lord kidnapping me and tying me up in his basement,” Mary said flatly before pouring herself more wine.
Riley shrugged. “I mean, that sounds pretty hot to me.”
“Thank you!” Giana said, thrusting an open palm toward her backup.
“What about the alien porn?” I chimed in.
Riley made a face while Giana held up a finger. “Listen, don’t knock it until you try it. It sounds insane, but—”
“Do you ready any normal books?” Mary asked.
Giana frowned, tapping her thumb against the edge of the book still cradled to her chest. “I like vanilla romance sometimes… a sweet friends-to-lovers, maybe a second-chance situation.”
“And those don’t have sex in them?”
Giana snorted. “Like I’d waste my time on a book without spice.”
“I’ll admit, the one you gave me about the high fae bat-winged dude was pretty hot,” I conceded.
Giana just gently set her book down before waving a hand over me like Vanna White. “Another example of me being right.”
“Tell you what, G,” Mary said, putting down her wine glass. “You play an hour of Red Dead Redemption with me, and I’ll read one of your books.”
“Deal,” Giana said, shaking Mary’s hand without thinking. Her little frown of determination slipped a little once the handshake was done. “Wait, what’s that game about again?”
“It’s an action-adventure western,” I answered for her. “Cowboys and guns and shit.”
Giana considered, and then smiled triumphantly. “Oh. Well, I like cowboys. Small-town romances are some of my favorites.”
Mary arched a brow at me like should we tell her? But I just shook my head and smiled, nodding toward where Riley was doodling on a notebook. “That’s cool.”
Her cheeks flamed when she looked up at me, and she covered the butterfly-looking thing with her palm. “I’m much more suited to curate the art than to make it.”
“I don’t know. That would make a pretty bad ass tattoo,” Mary said.
“Speaking of… how many do you have?” Giana asked, her eyes wide as they skated over all the black ink poking out from under the tank top Mary wore.
“I lost count somewhere around fifteen. They all just bleed together now.”
Giana leaned in closer. “Whoa. What do they all mean?”
“What do you mean what do they mean?” Mary laughed. “They’re just tattoos.”
“But they’re permanent,” Riley said.
Mary smiled, shaking her head and pointing to one above her elbow. She started explaining how her first handful had all this meaning and thought behind them, but then eventually, she just started getting things that looked cool or made her smile or just seemed like something fun to have on her body.
I listened quietly, babying my wine less because I didn’t want to drink, and more because I knew this close to Abby’s birthday, it was dangerous to toe the line of drinking too much. My phone buzzed on the table, and I picked it up, fighting a smile when I saw Holden’s name.
Holden: Come over.
I rolled my lips together, sneaking a picture of where the girls were now — Mary with her leg on the table while Riley and Giana peered over the table at the tattoo she was showing off on her calf.
Me: Can’t. Girls’ night.
Holden: Nice pic. You should send another one.