Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 104498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Thing is, being a hockey player, I’m used to seeing blood. We bleed on the ice. A lot.
Puke? It’s one thing I can’t handle.
So I pray to the gods of vomitus that Miller’s able to keep it all in. He doesn’t. By the time we hit land, I’m ready to kiss the sand because I almost join him in vomiting over the side of the boat.
“No more boat trips,” Miller croaks.
“Kinda hard when we’re on an island,” Talon says.
I clap him on the shoulder. “Feel better. I’m gonna hit the shower and then get Ema to bring me dinner in my room so I can pass out. After today, I’m exhausted.”
“You forgetting Matt and Noah asked us all to come to dinner tonight because they have something they want to tell us?” Talon asks.
“Shit.” I already know what they’re going to say after overhearing it this morning, but that doesn’t mean I can’t show up for it. “Fine. Still gonna get in a shower and maybe a nap beforehand.”
Miller complains that the ground is wobbly now too.
Sorry, Talon, you’re on your own.
On my way back to my cabin, I hope to see Jet, but I’m outta luck.
So much for a day on the water being a distraction. The second I’m back on land, I’m back where I was this morning—working out how to make Jet talk to me.
Which is what I’ll do instead of nap. But first, I definitely need a shower. I smell of saltwater and have sand in places no one ever should.
And when I look in the mirror in the bathroom, I realize I have sunburn in places no one ever should too. Is it possible for nipples to be sunburned?
I take a cold shower, which feels amazing on my overheated skin, but it’s clear by the time I’m clean I might’ve gotten too much sun. Or maybe I’m still a little green from watching Miller throw up his lunch.
Dizziness hits full force, and I have to reach for the wall to steady myself.
Fuck, maybe I need a nap after all. I shut off the water and dry myself, slipping into bed without bothering to put on any clothes.
Mmm, the sheets are soft, and my head sinks into the pillows.
I’ll nap first and then go see Jet before dinner.
My mind conjures an image of Jet’s curls around his face falling into his eyes as he climbs on top of me. My hand grips his hair tight, and his tight body moves over mine. A wet, hot mouth trails over my skin.
It’s easy to get lost in the fantasy that’s more memory than imagination, but it’s as if I can feel his hands on me, moving down over my chest and abs and lower again until his fingers brush against my straining cock.
I try to pull him up so he can kiss me, but he refuses and kisses along my burning skin.
Down.
Down.
“You need a minute with your hand or what?”
My eyes fly open at a voice that is definitely not the voice of the guy I’m thinking about.
Ollie stands at the door to my darkened cabin. “Maybe the guys do need to get you a rent boy if you’re this hard up.”
I stare down at the tenting sheet. “You mind?”
“Normally, I’d let you get back to it, but everyone’s waiting for you.”
I squint and look around, catching sight of the old, cheap clock radio on the bedside table.
“It feels like I only just put my head on the pillow.” Apparently, that was two hours ago, and apparently, I’ve been dreaming of Jet that whole time.
I throw my legs off the side of the bed and go to stand when my hand hesitates on the sheet. “You can run back to them and tell them I’m on my way.”
“I was told not to go back without you.”
“At least turn around.”
He faces the water. “You know, I’ve seen a million hockey players naked before.”
Yeah, but I bet none of them have been this hard in a locker room.
I pull on some khaki shorts and a gray T-shirt, not bothering with underwear or shoes. “Okay, I’m ready.”
Ollie looks at me over his shoulder. “You sure about that? Might wanna …” He points to my hair.
Ugh. I went to sleep with wet hair, and now it’s dried at all different angles. I reach for my trusty old hat and put it on backward to tame the mess.
“So much better,” Ollie says sarcastically.
I shove him out the door.
The meals are already served when we find our seats. Matt’s at the head of the table tonight, Noah next to him. Then Lennon, Ollie, Jet ... and, of course, there’s the spare meal for me, right next to that.
Everyone looks at me expectantly.
“Sorry. I fell asleep.”
“None of you three ever hear of sunblock?” Damon asks.
My gaze goes to Talon, natural-born blond, and he resembles something like a cooked lobster.