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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We flew private to Las Vegas, with my younger sister and her annoying best friend on the plane with us. Mia sat on Ethan’s lap and kissed him, sucking his lip into her mouth. I seriously wanted to vomit at the sight of them together. My best friend since high school with my sweet little sister. Gross.

I accepted their relationship a long time ago. Ethan even asked my permission to marry Mia. But it was still fucking weird seeing them being so… intimate. I turned away from the lovebirds, facing the other side of the plane. Liam and Shane pounded shots with Clarke Murphy—my sister’s best friend and former co-worker.

This was Ethan’s bachelor party. But my sister insisted we combine our resources and party separately once we reached Las Vegas. I had a feeling the girls were not going anywhere. So much for our plans to spend the night in the champagne room. No way would I subject Mia to that kind of debauchery.

“You should slow down,” I told Clarke.

With the shot glass in front of her mouth, she leveled me with a glare.

“If I wanted your opinion, Romeo, I would have asked or it.”

I held up my hands and shrugged. “Just a suggestion. You won’t last through the night if you keep drinking.”

She sneered. “I’m fine.” Then she tipped her glass against Liam’s before taking another shot.

Liam gave me a look that said, Lay off, bro. He knew better than to interfere with Clarke and me. We had unresolved shit. And if anyone knew about female baggage, it was Liam. So he needed to back the fuck off with Clarke.

“Dude, c’mon,” I said to him.

He groaned and set the bottle of whiskey on the table. I tipped my head toward the back of the jet, gesturing for him to vacate his seat. With an annoyed look, he swapped places with me. Clarke rolled her eyes as I sat beside her.

“Go away, Will!”

“No can do, sweetheart. You’re stuck with me for the rest of the flight.”

“You’re such a buzzkill.”

I leaned against her warm body, pressing my lips to her earlobe. As I shoved her hair behind her ear, she sucked in a deep breath and blew it out. A moment passed between us. My skin sizzled from the sexy look she gave me. I knew she could feel it. That spark that had always been there between us.

Without a word, she stood up. Her legs brushed against mine as she exited the row. I reached out for her, and she swatted my hand away. Clarke headed toward the bathroom at the back of the plane.

Liam leaned over, his elbows rested on his thighs. “Give up on her already, man. She’s a pain in the ass.”

I laughed at his audacity. “Says the guy who’s still pining over his ex, who fucked the best man on his wedding day.”

Liam’s expression darkened. “Fuck off.” He turned toward the window, his jaw clenched. “You really know how to kill the mood, Romeo.”

“Sorry,” I shot back. “I didn’t mean that.”

He sighed. “Just fuck off.”

Liam stared out the window. Mia and Ethan were busy making out in the front of the plane. I glanced at Shane, who had his foot kicked up on the bench in front of him, reading a book. Dude was fucking weird. Another nerd like my sister.

I walked down the row toward the bathroom and leaned against the wall, waiting for Clarke to come out. Most of the time, Clarke hated me. Unless we were fucking. That was the only time she looked at me as if she didn’t want to claw my eyes out.

We were never good together. But sex with her was like an addiction, a drug I did not want to kick. I craved those brief moments with Clarke, when she lowered her guard and let me in. But those were few and fleeting. She only agreed to spend the weekend with me because of Mia.

We’d met three years ago at a nightclub in Manhattan. Back then, Clarke was carefree and uninhibited, but the real Clarke was cold and closed off. No one could penetrate her tough exterior. The beautiful brunette was a force by herself, and she clarified that men—especially me—did not factor into her plans.

Clarke flung open the bathroom door, her mouth wide as she set her gaze on me. “What do you want?”

“To apologize.”

She cocked an eyebrow at me. “Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?”

I nodded.

Her jaw ticked. “Which means you want something.”

“This weekend is about Mia and Ethan. I don’t want to fuck it up with us fighting.” I extended my hand to her. “Truce?”

She stared at my hand as if it were diseased. “Mia knows I hate you.”

“She doesn’t know why.”

Clarke slipped her fingers between mine. “Truce. But if you tell me what to do again, you will regret it.”


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