Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
“Still are.”
He chuckled, his head bobbing side to side like he knew that all too well. When he set the photograph down, he tucked his hands into his pockets and kept walking, taking in the surroundings.
It was the first time I’d had him in my home, and it felt almost more intimate than when I had him inside me. I stood at the door with my keys clutched in my hands, nervously fidgeting with the rings as I watched him.
My phone was in my pocket, buzzing like crazy with notifications I wasn’t sure I’d want to see. After what happened at the arena, I could only imagine how we were blowing up. Strangers had been making assumptions about us for months, ever since that night Vince posted the photo of us in Baltimore. Now, they had those assumptions proven right.
The only texts I’d read were the ones from my parents, Livia, and my bosses.
Mom was excited, though still a bit wary — which was fair, all things considered.
Dad was demanding a full background check and a one-on-one talk with Vince. Poor guy.
Livia popped a bottle of champagne and sent me a video of her sipping the bubblies in my honor.
And Reya and Camilla sent so many emojis, my phone nearly broke trying to process them all. They were excited, to say the least, and the last text I saw from Camilla stated that Vince and I were all over the Internet.
I decided that, at least for tonight, I just wanted it to be us.
So, I pulled my phone from my pocket and powered it down completely before turning my attention back to Vince.
He was quiet as he studied the surroundings, studied me. He paced my living and dining area before disappearing down the hall, and I followed him back to my bedroom, where his smile doubled. He ran his fingertips over one of the crocheted plant holders I’d made, brushing the leaves of the pothos before he moved over to the bed. He flopped down onto it, the mattress bouncing with his weight as he inhaled a deep breath.
“God, everything smells like you.”
“I hope that’s a good thing,” I said, finally relinquishing my hold on the keys. I placed them on top of my dresser and carefully sat on the corner of the bed.
Vince was sprawled out like a starfish. He crooked a grin at where I sat with an arched brow. “Scared I’ll bite?”
“Maybe.”
I couldn’t explain it, but I was nervous — as if I hadn’t been in a bed with Vince dozens of times before this. My heart was racing, my breaths shallow, head light.
As if he could sense it, he snagged me by the wrists and tugged me into the middle of the bed with him. His legs wrapped around me, his arms holding me to his chest until I was completely enveloped and laughing, the nerves dissipating.
“You love when I bite,” he murmured in my ear, and chills raced from where his breath touched my skin all the way down to my toes.
I rolled as best I could in his vise grip, threading my arms around his neck and tangling my fingers in his hair. I loved that touch, that familiarity of the silky strands still a bit damp from his post-game shower.
“I’m so sorry, Vince,” I breathed, closing my eyes on another zap of pain as it shot through me.
He leaned up on one elbow, enough to brush my hair out of my face. “Okay, I’ll let that one slide, but no more apologies.”
“But—”
“I understand, Maven,” he said, cutting me off. “I get it. I’m not mad. Not even close.” He sighed, pulling me into him. “I’m just so fucking happy you’re giving me the chance to show you I’m not like him, and that I’m not going anywhere.”
He kissed me as anxiety spiked in my chest, but it was quieter now, more subdued. I realized it was okay to be scared, as long as that fear didn’t stand in our way.
“What are we going to do now?”
“I can think of a few things,” he mused, kissing me with more intent.
I pressed a hand to his chest on a laugh. “I mean after tonight.”
Vince balanced his chin in his hands, watching me. “What do you want to happen?”
“I don’t want to give up my job.”
He frowned. “Of course not. Why would you?”
“Well, I just didn’t want you to think I was going to quit and like… follow you around.”
I waved my hand with that, and he caught it before kissing my knuckles.
“That wouldn’t be my girl,” he said, holding my hand there at his chest. His brow furrowed. “But are you going to be okay not traveling with me? Do you trust me?”
I swallowed. “As much as it freaks me out… yes.”
“Good. I swear, I’ll keep it to two bunnies a trip. Maybe three. Just some good luck blowjobs before the game, you know? Nothing too—oof!”