The Player I Hate to Love (Elite Players #2) Read Online Jillian Quinn

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Erotic, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Elite Players Series by Jillian Quinn
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Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 202(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
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“Then tell Mia you don’t want to say the vows in front of people.”

He shook his head. “No, I promised I would.”

A woman with reddish brown hair stepped into the room and said, “You’re on in five. Are you ready?”

Ethan straightened his tie, his eyes on me. “Dude, don’t be a pussy,” I said under my breath before glancing over at the woman. “We’re ready. Be out in a minute.”

She nodded, then left the room without a word.

Ethan rocked his vows. Mia cried like a baby with each word he spoke. The ceremony was magical. At least that was how Mia phrased it before she walked down the aisle with Ethan, a married woman.

I extended my hand to Clarke, and she slipped her fingers between mine, a smile ghosting her lips. It was our turn to follow the bride and groom.

“You look beautiful,” I whispered.

Blush creeped across her pale cheeks. “Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

“Who are you kidding? I look fucking outstanding, wifey.”

She chuckled. “So confident.”

“Always.”

We walked arm in arm, acting like a loving married couple. I held her close, like she was some delicate flower I needed to protect. Not like she needed a man to save her. If Clarke was a car, she would have been a tank. And she would have run my ass over with it.

I was more than happy to be that man… for the next three months. Husband, friend, whatever she needed. Too bad lover was off the table because of our stupid bet.

I could change her mind about me. Maybe I wasn’t totally on board with being married, but I didn’t want to lose her again. Not after I’d tried so hard to get her to stop hating me.

My mom beamed with delight as I walked past her and my dad. She was pretty stoked about me getting married to Clarke. I tried to explain that it was a fake and drunken accident. Regardless, she was still pumped that I got hitched to a beautiful, successful woman.

I waved to my mom and so did Clarke. They had met several times over the years. Mom had even suggested a few times that I date Mia’s “pretty reporter friend.” I didn’t have the heart to tell her about our dirty past, or the fact Clarke would only hate-fuck me occasionally just to get me out of her system. Moms don’t need to know that kind of shit.

After we finished our never-ending walk down the aisle, I pulled Clarke to the side. I leaned against the wall closest to the front door and slid my hand to her hip. Her blue eyes met mine, and for once, she didn’t look like she hated me.

“I meant what I said back there,” I told her. “You look hot. If we didn’t have a bet, I’d drag you into one of the back rooms and screw your brains out.”

She threw back her head and chuckled. “Can’t even last one day. Oh, boy. This is going to be the worst three months of your life.”

“I can do it,” I said with confidence. “I’m not worried about me.”

“Please. I can go without sex for years. Three months is child’s play.”

“I packed some shit last night. After I talk to my GM on Monday, I’m driving to DC to live with your fine ass.”

She pressed her lips together. “I still can’t believe I agreed to this. You and me living together… What was I thinking?”

“I’m not bad company.”

“Maybe. But you’re a slob. I’m not cleaning up after you.”

I snorted with laughter. “No, I’m not.”

“Your sister would say otherwise. We had a little chat last night.”

“Ah, Mia’s just being a nag. I’m not that messy.”

Okay, I was pretty bad. When Ethan lived with me, he did the cooking and cleaning. And after he left, I had to hire a chef and a housekeeper to keep the place running.

“A marriage is a partnership, Will. If you want this to work, pull your weight around the house. We do everything fifty-fifty.”

“Got it. I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“Best man and maid-of-honor,” the photographer said, drawing my attention in her direction. “You’re needed outside for pictures.”

“It’s showtime,” I said under my breath.

A few hours later, after I’d given the best man speech, and my sister and Ethan smashed cake in each other’s faces, I danced with Clarke. She was halfway through a bottle of champagne and already a little drunk. This girl couldn’t hold her alcohol for shit.

Clarke molded her body to mine and hooked her arms around my neck. She breathed champagne in my face, her lips inches from mine. It took every ounce of my self-control not to kiss her.

“I’m leaving in the morning,” she muttered. “I’ll text you my address.”

Her fingers danced along my neck, her feather light touch sending a chill down my arms. I was going to lose the bet. No way in hell could I make it three months without wanting to kiss her… or rip off her clothes.


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