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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Callie pressed her lips together, unimpressed. “Why now? It seems rather convenient timing for you. Last month you almost got arrested for drunk driving with Liam West. A few weeks before that, the media spotted you with a group of women, and it was pretty clear you were tackling them as a team effort.”

I choked down the bile and forced a fake smile. “Looks are deceiving. Pictures can tell lies.”

“Are you saying you weren’t with them?”

“Not all of them.”

She looked at Clarke for confirmation.

“I know all about his past,” Clarke admitted with a straight face. “Will isn’t a saint, but that doesn’t change how I feel about him.”

“And how do you feel about him?”

“I love him,” she said without hesitation. “And he loves me.”

“I do,” I said before Callie could shoot a stare at me. “I know how our relationship looks to outsiders, but what we have is different. Clarke gets me. She accepts the mistakes I’ve made in the past.”

Clarke linked her arm with mine and tapped her fingers on my thigh. “He’s not Romeo anymore.”

“No?” Callie leaned her elbows on the table, her gaze wavering between us. “I have a hard time believing he’s changed in a month.”

“Come to the real wedding,” Clarke suggested. “You’ll see for yourself.”

“When is it?”

“Next month,” Clarke choked out.

I did my best to keep a straight face. We could arrange a wedding ceremony on short notice, but not in a month. My parents would need to fly out from Arizona, where they retired a few years ago. Not to mention my training schedule was amping up soon with the pre-season slowly approaching.

“Can I bring the girls?” Callie asked.

She was referring to her roommates and friends who worked with her at Market House Press.

“Sure,” I chimed. “Bring whoever you want.”

Callie pursed her lips. “I’m holding off on my story until the wedding.”

Clarke sighed beside me. “We understand. But it would really help us get the media off our backs.”

“You know my policy, babe. I don’t print stories until I can confirm the truth. Until the wedding…”

That was the end of the interview.

Callie walked us to the lobby, we said our goodbyes, and then we hopped into an empty elevator. I leaned against the wall, holding Clarke in my arms. We both let out a sigh of relief.

“That was close,” she breathed.

“We’re not out of the woods yet, babe. Now we have to plan a real wedding and make it look legit.”

She groaned. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“No, it’s fine. We should do this. But we need our friends and families here this time. Might be hard on short notice.”

“My mom will come. Who knows with my dad? He hasn’t even texted since the news broke about our wedding. I’m sure he’s heard by now.”

“Maybe not.” I hugged her against my chest and kissed the top of her head. “We’ll figure this out. Real or not, it’s going to be the best damn wedding.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

CLARKE

A few weeks into our living situation, and we looked like a real married couple. We even felt like a real couple. Since our interview with The Gossip Queen, Will wanted our wedding to be top notch. He spared no expense in booking a hotel in downtown Philly for the service and the reception. Will invited practically everyone he’d ever known.

He was becoming a different man, someone I almost did not recognize. While I was at work, he cleaned the house, did the food shopping, and even started cooking us dinner. I was content with ordering out, but Will wanted to impress me with his limited cooking skills.

Will stood in front of the stove with a spatula in his hand, shirtless with a pair of sweatpants hanging off his narrow hips. He swayed to the beat of the tune belting through the surround sound speakers, singing the words to the hip hop song.

I’d watched him cook for the past few minutes without him turning around. Ripped with muscle, his back muscles were impressive, his skin tanned to perfection. He looked as if he’d spent all day in the sun. Without an ounce of fat on his body, Will had me salivating like I was in the desert and starving for a drink.

I loved watching him look so in his element as he glazed onions for the meatloaf he was preparing for us. Cooking was not my strong suit. And there was no way in hell I was going to start soon.

I leaned forward on the counter, my elbows digging into the marble, and observed my gorgeous husband. It still felt weird to think of Will as my husband. But we were committed, now more than ever. Next weekend, all eyes would be on us. All the media outlets and haters who didn’t believe our marriage was legit would have to eat their words.


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