Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 121764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
“No,” I answered simply.
Grace sighed, then nestled into me, wrapping her arm around me in the fiercest hug from such a small thing. “I’m sorry.”
I closed my eyes, holding her, feeling something so strong it was almost overwhelming. I wanted to burrow into it as much as I wanted to shoot it down.
We laid like that for a long while — Grace smoothing her hands over my back while I pressed lazy, slow kisses on her forehead and in her hair. I was almost back to sleep when she tilted her head up, her lips against my neck.
“So… what do we do next?”
The question jolted me awake, but I managed a calm breath, smoothing my hand over her hair. “What do you want to do next?”
At that, she pressed up on her elbow, eyes searching mine.
“Can we just keep driving?”
I knew it was a bad idea. God, hadn’t that been the theme of the whole fucking summer? Ever since that night she’d strutted to the back of the party bus in Austin and sat right next to me, pinning me with that spellbinding smile of hers.
We were driving fast and furious down a dead-end road.
And yet… I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t want to slow down. I didn’t want a seatbelt or a fucking airbag.
I’d never felt this alive — not in all the thirty years I’d existed.
I knew, eventually, it would all end. I knew there’d come a day when I’d go back to Tampa, back to a new season with her brother as my teammate. And she’d go off on her next adventure with me as just a good story to tell.
But that was later. This was now.
I decided reality could wait.
Because we still had summer.
I kissed her nose, grabbed her by the hand, and put every other thought on mute in my mind as I pulled her up from the mess we’d made.
“Let’s roll, Nova.”
Good At Keeping Secrets
Jaxson
“Dear God, woman — what the hell is that?”
Grace bounced on the toes of her dirty white canvas sneakers, holding a plastic bag of something absolutely foul like it was a hundred-pound fish she’d reeled in on her own. She’d opened it while I was pumping gas, and the stench alone had turned my stomach.
“Pork rinds!”
I unlatched the nozzle and replaced it on the pump, closing the gas tank door next. “That sounds as disgusting as it smells.”
“Come on — it’s all part of the experience,” she said, attempting to hand me one of the crisps.
“That’s a hell no from me, Nova.”
She shrugged, popping one in her mouth. She chewed it normally for a second before her movement slowed, and she grimaced, running to the trash can by the gas pump and spitting it out.
“Alright,” she said, tossing the opened bag in next. “They can’t all be winners. But look!” She dug into the bag slung around her arm and pulled out a small white pack of chocolates. “Valomilk cups!”
I blinked at her, rounding the SUV to open her door and help her climb in before I did the same. I fired up the engine, which was quiet and disappointing. I missed my Porsche.
“And what exactly are these?” I asked when Grace ripped open the packet and handed me a chocolate.
“Apparently, a famous Kansas candy. Marshmallow inside, I think.”
She bumped her piece against mine and shoved the whole thing in her mouth, which made my eyebrow tic up.
“Hmm,” I assessed, watching her chew. “Forgot just how much you can fit in that little mouth.”
Grace’s eyes shot open, and she laughed around a mouthful of chocolate and fluff, smacking my chest as a blush tinged her cheek.
“Ash-hole.”
I grinned, taking a bite of my own chocolate, which actually wasn’t terrible. But it wasn’t great, either.
I kicked us into drive, hitting the open road — and it was quite open as we drove straight through the middle of Kansas.
“I need to take you to Canada,” I said. “We put your chocolate to shame. Everything we have is creamier, richer.”
“Including the men,” Grace piped up with a smile that told me she was proud of herself.
I took the wheel with my left hand and tickled her with the right until she was laughing and squealing and wiggling away from me.
When she was breathless, I stopped tickling her, and without me realizing what I was doing, I slid my hand between her thighs, hooking my fingers around the inside of her left one.
Fuck me.
Everything felt so good and right in that moment. I had one hand on the wheel, one wrapped around Grace’s thigh, and she was smiling at me with pink cheeks as we drove without a damn clue where we were going next.
My heart pitched into my throat, but I swallowed it down.
“You’ve never had chocolate until you’ve had a Caramilk bar. Or a Wunderbar. Or, fuck,” I dragged the word out, stomach grumbling. “A coffee crisp — with your coffee, naturally.”