Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 66431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
“Because you probably would have tried to talk me out of going.”
“I would have,” she confirms. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yeah, I did. I saw how nervous you were, and you’re not the only one here, you know? I’m right here with you. The right thing for me to do was to man up and go talk to your dad. So, I did it this morning as soon as we got back to the city, and I dropped you off at home.”
“What did you say?”
I grin and drag my fingers through her hair. “A little of this, a lot of that. Basically, I told them that I’m not going anywhere unless you kick me to the curb.”
She sighs and drapes a leg over mine. “It was nice to see you with my family today. I didn’t even know that it was something I wanted to see, but once I saw you there, I thought: This is great. If I’m not careful, I’ll catch feelings over here.”
I tip her chin up so she’s looking at me. “You’re just now catching feelings? You need to catch up, babe.”
She narrows her eyes playfully, kisses my chin, and then pulls away. “I’m going to take that shower. If you want anything to eat or drink, help yourself to what’s in the kitchen.”
“Do you want anything?”
“I could go for some iced tea,” she says and then blows me a kiss before disappearing into the bathroom.
Here’s hoping there’s iced tea in the fridge.
I tug on my jeans and unlock the door, walking downstairs. The house is still pretty quiet, so I assume no one’s here.
But when I come into the kitchen, I see a pair of boxers and hairy legs sticking out of the fridge.
“Uh, hello?”
Whoever it is bumps his head on the fridge, then grabs a banana and holds it out like a weapon.
“Who the fuck are you?” he demands.
I raise a brow. “Who the fuck are you?”
“I live here, asshole. I’ll call the cops.”
“After you shoot me with that banana?”
He scowls at the fruit, then tosses it aside.
“I’m Vaughn. Liv’s in the shower upstairs. You must be Drew?”
His eyes narrow on me, and he props his hands on his hips. “Jesus, you’re Vaughn? The guy in Falling Stars.”
“Yeah.”
“Now I know you’re lying because Liv doesn’t date actors.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’m her damn cousin, and I just know.”
“What’s taking so long—oh.” Liv stops by the island and tucks her robe around her. “Hey, Drew. This is Vaughn. He’s, uh, my guest.”
“See?” I say with a smug smile. “Not lying. He almost killed me with that banana.”
“Whatever,” Drew says, rolling his eyes. “A text would have been nice. Just because, you know. Courtesy.”
“Sorry,” Liv says with a cringe. “Maybe you should wear more clothes.”
“Why?” Drew gestures to me. “He’s not. Anyway, I’m out of here. I just wanted a snack.”
He opens the fridge once more and takes out what looks like a plate of leftover meatloaf and potatoes.
“See you.”
Drew leaves, shutting the door behind him, and I glance over at Liv and grin.
“That was fun.”
“Sorry,” she says and then laughs. “I guess that happens when you have roommates.”
“I guess so,” I agree and open the fridge, find some iced tea, and then open cupboards until I find glasses to pour the tea for Liv before passing it to her. “Here you go, madam.”
“Thanks.” She takes a sip. “Help yourself to anything.”
“Okay.”
I walk to her, lift her into my arms, and carry her up the stairs while she laughs like a loon.
“I meant in the kitchen.”
“Oh, you want to do it in the kitchen? It’s a little risky with roommates around the house. But, okay.”
She giggles some more and kisses my cheek. “You know what I meant.”
“I have what I want right here.”
I step through her door and lock it behind us, then carry her back to bed.
“Are you sure this is okay?” Kelly asks Olivia as Liv escorts us up to one of the posh, exclusive boxes in the stadium. “I’m fine with hanging out with the other wives.”
“It’s totally okay,” Liv assures Kelly. “It’s the family’s box, and you’re more than welcome. Also, there’s a great view of the field.”
She opens the door of her family’s suite, and we walk in to find it relatively full and a little loud.
This is not a place where Liv’s family comes just to party. They actually watch the games. Most of the stadium-style seats, although much plusher than anything below us, are full of people eating and taking in what’s happening on the field.
“Hey, Livie,” Will Montgomery says and kisses Liv’s cheek. “You brought friends.”
“This is Kelly Jenkins, Jamal’s wife,” Liv says. “And this is Vaughn Barrymore.”
“It’s a pleasure,” I say as I shake his hand.
“You’re the one I’ve heard about,” Will says with a smile. “Be good, or we’ll kill you. Hi, Kelly. I really like your husband. He’s an excellent player and a nice guy.”