Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 234779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1174(@200wpm)___ 939(@250wpm)___ 783(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 234779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1174(@200wpm)___ 939(@250wpm)___ 783(@300wpm)
Anderson and I just got here, so we haven’t made it inside yet. Right now we’re crowded around Chuck Whitehouse’s new car with a few of Anderson’s teammates. Their girlfriends mostly wandered off as soon as Chuck popped the hood and started talking about what was under it. Tasha stuck around like she was curious, but she might just be reluctant to leave her boyfriend’s side—he has been known to have a wandering eye.
I’m not into cars myself, but Anderson listens with interest. Given he’s had such a rough day, I play the dutiful girlfriend role and stay by his side.
He has been uncomfortably affectionate today, but I think it’s just because he’s sad about his dog.
Unfortunately, Anderson’s arm is draped over my shoulder in a casually territorial gesture when Hunter walks up. I feel his presence behind me by the shift in the wind as he approaches, but my heart still drops when I look back and see his eyes locked on me.
I don’t like seeing you with him.
Hunter’s words from yesterday echo in my mind as his gaze drifts to Anderson’s arm around me and a flash of anger darkens his features. He clears it quickly, then takes center stage among his friends, an easy smile in place.
“How are you ladies doing tonight?”
Tasha smiles and opens her mouth to answer, but before she can, Chuck does.
“Oh, we’re the ladies? And I guess your game was flawless,” he says good-naturedly, and I realize Hunter is just giving them a hard time about how badly they played tonight.
“My game is always flawless,” Hunter says with a far-too-charming smirk. Shifting his gaze to me, he winks. “Isn’t that right, Bishop?”
My heart sinks and heat suffuses my cheeks.
Anderson tenses beside me.
Chuck Whitehouse chortles at the none-too-subtle reminder that Hunter banged me once upon a time.
I have no idea how to respond. Part of me is tempted to defend myself. I was too stunned the day he started all of this—I couldn’t believe he’d said it, let alone dispute his lie.
It’s old news now. I could calmly deny his claim if I felt like it, but… do I really want to?
Hunter is already going to be pissed when I don’t break up with Anderson tonight. Seems unwise to pick another fight with him, especially one I don’t even care about anymore. So people think we had sex in middle school—does it really matter?
Enough time has passed that the worst of the fallout from that lie has passed. Digging it back up now would be pointless, and there would be people who’d never believe me anyway, so it would only come off like I’m ashamed.
It’s over, it’s done. People can think what they want to think.
Besides, I have bigger fish to fry tonight.
I wish I could pull Hunter aside now and talk to him, but especially right on the heels of what he just said, I can’t do that to Anderson. I don’t want to make him look like a fool, with Hunter the brazen king boldly toying with his girl—even out in the open while everyone watches.
Since I don’t say anything to defend myself, I guess, Anderson takes it the wrong way.
Looking at Hunter, he demands, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Just the two of them locking gazes makes my stomach sink. There’s a glint of meanness in Hunter’s eyes. This isn’t going to end well for Anderson.
I break my silence and interject before Hunter can say anything. “Don’t, please. Not tonight.”
Ignoring my plea, Hunter slides Anderson a little smile. “You mean she didn’t tell you?” Feigning surprise, he looks over at me. “Huh. I wonder what else she hasn’t told you...”
Stop is on the tip of my tongue, but instinctively I know that reprimanding Hunter in front of his buddies is a bad move.
“Do you guys have some kind of history I should know about?” Anderson asks Hunter since he hasn’t gotten anything out of me.
Desperation compels me to break away from Anderson. Even though I thought this was a bad move before, since he’s clearly in the mood to cause trouble, I grab Hunter by the arm of his letterman jacket and drag him away from the crowd. “I need to talk to you.”
Looking at my grip on his jacket as he allows me to drag him toward a more private section of the yard, he smirks. “I like where this is heading.”
“Where the hell are you going?” Anderson calls after us, scowling at me.
“We’ll be back in one minute,” I assure him.
“What the…?” He trails off, shaking his head in disbelief.
That’s fair. He has every right to be mad at me for this. I don’t care if he’s mad at me, I just don’t want Hunter to be mean to him, and the conversation was definitely heading in that direction.
“Huh. Trying to get him to dump you so you don’t have to be the bad guy? Sound strategy, but more cowardly than I would have expected from you,” Hunter remarks.