Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Willa and Aubrey both nod fiercely in agreement.
“You could cut the sexual tension with a knife, Tate pie,” Aubrey says with a crooked grin. “I got pregnant looking at you two lick at each other with just your eyes.”
“Me too,” Willa says breathily.
“You two already are pregnant,” I say lamely. “It was probably nothing.”
Gemma’s nails are back, nearly puncturing my cheeks as she turns my focus back on her. “It was not nothing, idiot. It was everything. Jude has it so bad for you.”
Does he?
My heart does a nosedive, taking my stomach with it. I feel slightly dazed and lightheaded as I allow myself to consider her words.
Jude has it so bad for you.
Well, apparently, I have it bad for him too.
I should do something nice for him. To show my appreciation for…him. Yeah, that’s all I’ve got. I’m appreciative for the way he looked at me just now, for the way he kissed me last night, for the way he let me take off his mask and trusted me with such a vulnerable part of him.
“I’m going to woo him,” I blurt out. “But I’m going to need wine.”
Gemma’s grin is downright evil. “I know a guy. Let me track Dempsey down and we’ll hook you up. You’ve got this, Tate.”
Do I?
At least the wine will help if I don’t…
Jude
Baker: You can’t get rid of me that easily, man. It’s like you don’t remember how annoying I was from high school.
Baker: Dude, I can see you’re reading my messages. Don’t be a dick.
Baker: Maybe I’ll just show up at your house and you’ll be forced to hang out with me then.
I groan at his persistence before firing off a response.
Me: Busy.
Baker: Liar. You’re avoiding me. Fine, if you don’t want a surprise visit, at least tell me how you’re doing.
Why the fuck does he care so much?
I’m going to kill Dad for giving him my number.
Me: I’m fine. Seriously. Worry about your wife and kids, not your ex-best friend.
Baker: We’d still be best friends had you not Xed me out of your life.
Me: I don’t need any friends.
Except Tate?
Is he a friend? More?
Definitely more. My dick twitches at the reminder of how fucking cute he looked this morning when I came out of the gym. If the girls weren’t there, I’d have probably attacked him with my mouth.
Baker: You’re so cold, Park. Don’t worry. I’m used to hormonal girls. I have a house full of them. I can navigate bitchy behavior. Let’s meet next Friday night.
Me: I’ll check my schedule and get back to you.
I toss my phone on my desk, refusing to look at it again. If he shows up, I’ll have Violet, or better yet, Grandpa, send him away. I’m not up for visitors.
Glancing at the clock on the wall, I note that it’s close to dinner time. Violet usually pops in to let me know what we’re having, but she hasn’t. I also haven’t seen Tate all day either ever since our gym run-in.
I’ve been hiding in my office like a coward.
Well, after the longest, hottest shower where I beat off twice in a row and still didn’t feel sated. I don’t know what the hell has gotten into me, but I can’t get Tate out of my head.
He’s an invader.
A foreign object in my fucking life.
Yet, I like him there.
I really, really do.
With a heavy sigh, I stand and stretch my aching muscles. I went pretty hard in the gym this morning, desperately trying to burn off all this frenetic energy buzzing inside me. Obviously, it didn’t work. Now I’m just sore, horny, and still fucked in the head.
I stalk out of my office and down the hallway, peeking into Tate’s room along the way. The room smells like him and I inhale, greedily stealing more of him, though I have no right to. After getting my fill, I head downstairs and am met with a new smell.
Something smells good.
I make my way toward the kitchen to see what Violet is cooking up tonight. The second I enter the kitchen, I stop dead in my tracks. It’s not Violet cooking, but Tate, instead. He stands at the stove, stirring something in a big pot, swaying to a beat that must run in his head only. In his other hand is a wine glass filled to the brim with red wine.
He doesn’t see me as I slowly creep into the kitchen, my gaze dropping to his ass. Those jeans are criminal. They show off his adorable ass, which does nothing to abate my horniness. Fuck, he drives me insane.
I watch with amusement as he chugs the entire wine glass before setting it down on the countertop with a loud clang. He curses under his breath and then checks the glass to make sure he hasn’t broken it. Once he’s sure he hasn’t, he sets to pouring the rest of the bottle into the glass.