Total pages in book: 191
Estimated words: 182070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
So, because of my good day and because I’d already put on makeup and done a little extra with my hair because of filming, I kept my “work” clothes on, which consisted of a skirt and a tucked-in loose blouse even though we were going to eat wings.
Right then, I was mostly just worried about my skirt flying up at a random gust of wind and showing everybody driving by my maroon underwear.
Specifically Santiago, who was two months single and possibly ready to mingle.
Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
I was just thinking about my underwear and Santiago when the black pickup pulled through the opening gate and his silver car stopped at the keypad instead of piggybacking like everyone did.
The window rolled down right before I heard a “Bianca!”
I thanked God in that second that I’d never gotten all flustered over hot guys. The only things that had ever made me sweat was tres leches cake and lime sherbet.
And sometimes certain male body parts could hypnotize me, but not for long.
So I was able to lift my hand up and wave at the black-haired man leaning out of his car window with his forearm resting along it. “Hi, Santiago!”
“You locked out? Need a ride in?”
A ride. The jokes I could make with that.
“No, I’m okay. I’m just waiting to get picked up. Thank you though.”
“You sure?” the man I’d seen a couple times without a shirt on when he got home after a run hollered, making me imagine his six-pack for a second.
I gave him a thumbs-up and replied, “Yeah, no, it’s fine. He’s on his way.” I only slightly regretted not going into detail on who “he” was, but oh well. It had been a few months since I’d last gone on a date.
A memory of Boogie telling me to get out more crept through my head. I hoped he didn’t remember that conversation, because he wasn’t going to be happy if I had to tell him the truth. Does going to Target count?
The way-too-good-looking sheriff’s deputy smiled a smile that would have made a lesser woman throw her panties at him. “You sure?”
I smiled back, and right as I opened my mouth, a car pulled into the driveway for the complex and quickly turned left to stop directly in the visitor’s lot, right in front of where I was standing. It was a car I definitely recognized.
A four-door black sedan. Boogie’s car.
The passenger side window rolled down, and something else familiar appeared, even though it wasn’t what I was expecting.
Zac’s freaking smiling face. Zac’s freaking smiling face with its tan skin and high cheekbones and perfect nose. And he looked so happy.
“Hop in, we’re starvin’,” the man I’d seen weeks ago said.
What?
My old friend’s smile grew a little wider, flashing me more of that immaculate row of white teeth highlighted by the dark sunglasses protecting his eyes and making his skin look even more bronze. Back when we’d been kids, he’d been pale, but year after year of practices and working out under the sun nearly year-round had given him an incredible base coat. He was tanner than I was now.
“Get in, Peewee,” he said like I hadn’t heard him the first time.
I couldn’t see my cousin, but I heard him from the driver’s seat. “Let’s go, B. We’re hungry.”
Zac was in the car?
And he was coming with us?
It had been over a month since I’d dropped Zac off in Austin to see Paw-Paw. It had been weeks since the last time I’d even thought about him, much less talked about him. When I’d asked about the Travis family, Boogie had only brought up the older man’s status, stating that he’d been discharged from the hospital, which was normal. Over the last few years, he only mentioned his best friend if I brought him up or if they’d seen each other.
And I hadn’t asked about him lately. I had purposely changed the channel every time someone put The Sports Network on, and I’d been too busy lately to browse any other sports news websites for updates on his career. For all I’d known, he was still in Austin or in a different city working out with a new team. I didn’t even know if he’d signed with someone.
What I did know was that camp—the training they went to before the season started—had already begun.
And he was here. In Houston. Again.
When my cousin had texted me during his lunch break earlier to confirm that we were on for wings, he hadn’t said shit about Zac coming with us.
And now he was here.
In the car.
And they wanted to go eat.
With me.
It took me another second before I managed to nod. What was I going to do? Say no? Claim I had a migraine? And then I remembered who I’d been talking to a second before. Glancing over, I could see my neighbor at the keypad to the gate, attention still focused in my direction. He looked curious… and I was pretty sure he might have looked at my butt when I’d bent over a little to make sure I wasn’t imagining that it was Zac in the passenger seat. Hm. I lifted a hand and waved at him. “My ride’s here. See you, Santiago! Thanks for checking on me!”