Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Is that my heart fluttering? Yeah, I think it is. Dryer sheets and pancakes.
“I like pancakes,” I say, loud enough for Ryker to hear.
“Everyone likes pancakes,” Ryker grumbles, but I can translate his pissy mood now, and his words mean I thought you were leaving when I wanted you to stay for breakfast.
I return to the kitchen, nudging Ryker’s side. “Yes, everyone does, even the big bad wolf.”
The wolf harrumphs, but then says, “Do you like coffee?”
“As long as it hasn’t lost its flavor,” I say, with a mischievous grin.
“Course it hasn’t,” he says.
Because you started it right on time for me.
I don’t say that though. He knows what he did this morning, and so do I now, and I feel fifty million times better than I did when I thought they might have wanted to kick me out right away. Plus, these pancakes smell so good. I offer to help, and Chase lets me, so I show off my cooking skills. When the first batch is almost done, I say, “Want to see my party trick? I can flip a pancake five feet in the air.”
“Show us,” Ryker demands.
I slide a pancake onto the spatula, and flip it toward the ceiling, catching it a few seconds later. I take a bow.
Chase whistles. “And I thought jerking off two dudes at once was your party trick.”
A laugh bursts from me. “I guess I have two party tricks now.”
“But keep the first one just between us,” Ryker says, without cracking a grin as he comes behind me, then slides a possessive hand up my back, curling it around my neck. Like he’s sending me a message. He doesn’t want any other men to share me.
I shiver from his touch. From the ownership in it. Then from the way he drags his fingers against my skin, pressing hard and firm. Like he’s marking me as theirs.
But the thing is—I don’t know if they want to share me again either.
And honestly, why would they? I’m just the jilted book nerd who poured out her bedroom troubles to a couple superstar athletes, and they’re the competitive guys who wanted to prove they could fix me between the sheets. They won that contest, and now it’s time for a victory breakfast.
That. Is. All.
And I’m here for sweet revenge on my philandering ex. I make a mental note to post the pool playing video later today so Jasper the Wonderless can cry in his oat milk over that one too.
When I finish a small stack of batter-y goodness dripping in decadent syrup, I say, “These are the best. And I’d know. I’m in my pancake era.”
“My whole life is my pancake era,” Chase says.
Ryker leans back in his chair. “Didn’t you say the same thing about your chocolate chip cookie era? And your waffle—”
“Hey now,” Chase chides.
“Don’t forget your acai bowl phase,” Ryker adds. “And there’s also your daily devotion to coffee at Doctor Insomnia’s.”
“I like my rituals,” Chase says, raising his chin.
“And Doctor Insomnia’s coffee is life-giving. I will attest to that,” I say, then push back in my chair so I can clean up.
But Chase sets a hand on my arm. “What are you up to today, sweetness?”
My chest warms. It’d be far too easy to get used to him calling me that. “Well, I got good news this morning. I found an apartment.”
He offers a hand to high-five as I tell him about my email. “So after work, I need to sign the paperwork before Aubrey’s landlord finds out she has a dog in her place, and then I only have nine days left of hiding my pup from him.” I cross my fingers.
Chase’s jaw falls open. “You have to hide the dog?”
I frown. “We sort of have to smuggle him in and out. But Nacho’s quiet and doesn’t bark much. He’s a very good boy—well, except for his taste for undies. And he’s at doggie daycare now anyway. Aubrey dropped him—”
“Stay with me,” Chase says, like he’s brooking no argument. “Both of you. For the next week.”
I stare at him, bug-eyed, I’m sure. “My dog and me?”
He sweeps out a hand to indicate this space. He has a lot of it. “This is a three-bedroom and there’s only one of me. I have a guest room. The designer set it up,” he says as Ryker takes a sip of his coffee. I bet he drinks it extra scalding. With salt added to strengthen his ire.
But I focus on the guy making the kindest offer. “Chase,” I reply, since I truly don’t know what else to say. It’s so generous. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” Chase asks, a little demanding. Or really, a lot.
“I just…that’s too nice,” I say.
“He is nice. He means it,” Ryker says, like he’s protective of his friend, and holy hell, that’s…sexy too. Like when he offered to fuck up Jasper. Like when he said my trick was between us.