Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 48146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 241(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 241(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
When Henners begged off early to spend time with Lark, I stood as well and headed to the door.
“What the hell, Bones?” A-Train asked.
“Yesterday may have been too much for me.” My head was still pounding from my drinking antics, so it was best to call it a night. “But I’ll definitely be up for partying tomorrow.”
“Okay, cool.”
I sucked in the fresh air as I made my way back to the dorm, a little thrill shooting through me about tucking in early. I considered myself an extrovert, but some nights, it felt good to just stay in my room and enjoy quieter things.
Which was why when I saw Emil on his bed with his laptop, I couldn’t help wondering if he’d had the same idea.
“I thought you’d be out.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” Emil replied. “Just felt like chilling tonight.”
“Yeah, same. You watching something?”
“The new trailer for Slay.”
I nearly squealed like I was in the third grade. “The new season is out?”
“Uh-huh, over the summer. Can’t believe I held out this long.”
“You obviously needed to wait for me,” I said, and Emil smirked. “Can I watch it with you?”
“Well, it is our thing,” he said, and there went my stomach again.
I toed out of my shoes, sank down beside him, and crossed my legs. When our knees accidentally pressed together, my skin prickled—evidently, I was eager about the show. “Hit Play already.”
We watched with barely contained excitement, and as soon as the trailer ended, Emil blurted, “How can we not watch the first episode after that?”
Suddenly, my earlier exhaustion evaporated. “I’m game if you are.”
He scooted off the bed. “First, I need to apply my new face mask. I can wait for it to dry while we’re watching the show.”
I scrunched my nose. “What the hell is a face mask?”
“You’re kidding, right?” He rolled his eyes. “You apply it to your face, and it draws the impurities out of your pores. Then you wash it off, and afterward, your skin is smooth as a baby’s bottom.”
“You’re messing with me.”
He shook his head, then took out a container and brush from his dresser drawer. “I dare you to try it.”
I glanced toward the door, giving myself away. “Nope, not taking the bait.”
Emil nudged my shoulder. “It’s just us. No one will know.”
“Until you blackmail me,” I countered.
“I would never! I mean, unless you’re a jerk to me.”
“Well, there’s a ninety percent chance of that, so forget it.” I was always putting my foot in my mouth where he was concerned. We’d gotten more used to each other’s senses of humor and what buttons to avoid pushing, but it was still a work in progress.
“Come on,” he said with that false innocence in his eyes. He knew exactly what he was doing, playing on my emotions to get me to agree to stuff. And lately, it was working, the fucker. “I’ll brush it on your face, and then you do mine.”
“I…” I glanced over my shoulder again as if someone was going to barge into our room at any moment.
His mouth turned down. “Do you really care that much what people think of you, Mr. Tough Linebacker?”
I nearly puffed out my chest at that backward compliment. “Of course not.”
Then why was I acting so nervous? It was just skincare, for God’s sake. Or was this about something else entirely?
“The ladies will no doubt compliment your soft skin.”
That thought failed to send a thrill through me. Normally, I enjoyed the attention I got from fans of the female persuasion. But I didn’t want him to notice anything was wrong, so I begrudgingly agreed. “Fine.”
His eyes lit up. “Okay, sit perfectly still. Ready?”
“Let’s get on with it,” I grumbled. I pretended to be grouchy, but as soon as his fingers settled on my shoulder to steady himself, I felt adrift. He was so intense as he brushed the thick clay-like salve on my cheeks. “So the mask goes on clear, then dries white, and that’s how you know it’s ready to be washed off.”
I could barely focus on his words as I held my breath and scrutinized his features. His skin was smooth, his eyelashes long, his mouth bow-shaped. When he licked his lips and concentrated on my forehead, I wondered what they would taste like—
I jerked back. What the hell was I doing?
He paused with the brush suspended between us. “You okay?”
“Yeah, sorry, I had an itch. You done?”
He frowned, probably thinking he’d have way more fun with one of his other friends. “Yeah, that should do it.”
He handed me the tub and brush, then positioned himself on the bed. My first pass with the brush was a bit sloppy, and I ended up getting some on his ear, but he just laughed and swiped at it with his wrist.
I tried to make my brain go blank as I applied the rest, hoping he didn’t notice the hitch in my breathing every time I came anywhere close to his mouth. “All done.”