Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 174623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
His cheek twitches like he's trying to hide a smile, but thankfully, he doesn't turn his eyes back in my direction.
"If she were on a different team, would you be hateful and too competitive so she wouldn't have a good time?"
"Why couldn't she be on my team?" I counter, not answering his question because it would be a waste of breath. The man is too damn observant not to know the answer.
"We're splitting couples up," he says. "We think it would make it more fun. Should we put her on your same team?"
"Did you ask her?"
His grin is wider when he looks in Juliet's direction.
"She wanted to know if you wanted to be on her team or another team."
I look across the room, my eyes finding her immediately, and just like she had before we ended up in my room last night, she looks in my direction as if she can sense me watching her.
Her cheeks grow even redder when she glances from me and notices Thumper standing beside me.
"Do you want to be on her team?" he asks again, the words slow as if he wants her to read his lips.
"No," I say and shake my head, loving the way she tries her best to hide her grin by rolling her lips inward and clamping them between her teeth.
"Well, shit," Thumper grumbles. "I guess I owe Legend a hundred bucks."
"Excuse me?" I say and look in his direction.
"Legend said you two were an item. I said no way. That would never happen."
I glare at him, wondering which part I should focus on.
Should I be angry that they were discussing the two of us in the first place?
Should I be pissed that he doesn't think I'm capable of caring for someone?
Does he consider my attachment to her some form of ethical violation?
Shit... is it an ethical violation?
Kincaid didn't look mad when he glanced between us earlier, but maybe he doesn't suspect anything along those lines.
"Should we draw up plans for your house across the street next?" he asks, the humor not leaving his tone, telling me that if he clocked my irritation, then he doesn't see an issue with it.
"Fuck no," I growl.
He turns his eyes to me. "Then I only owe him fifty bucks... so far."
"So far?" I snap. "What the fu—"
"Oh, look," he says with his attention directed toward the tables of food. "There's Em with more potato salad. Catcha later, bud."
He smacks me on the shoulder like we've been best friends our entire lives and then walks away.
I glance up, trying to find Juliet, but she's gone from the spot she was standing in earlier. I scan the room, my instinct to find her somehow ingrained in my mind, but then I see Legend. He's grinning from across the room.
I don't even know if the conversation about fucking softball is about real teams or if they were just an information-seeking mission used as a distraction.
Legend holds up his beer as if saluting me before taking a long drink.
There's no way I'd confront either one of them about the shit that just went down, but it has very little to do with any relationship with Juliet.
How can I even consider the possibility of a future with her, one that includes our own little private slice of heaven across the street, when I know that I'm one fuckup, one violent rampage away from being shown the fucking exit to Cerberus?
How can I plan a future for myself, much less with someone else, when I know there's a very real chance I don't have one?
I've always known my destiny was six feet in the ground. I just wanted to make sure I took out as many monsters as possible before one put me there.
It's not a matter of if, but when.
I don't know what the look on my face is saying, but it's bad enough that the smile drops from Legend's face as he lowers his beer.
I shake my head, a snap of motion, when he takes a step in my direction.
The reality of my fate has never bothered me. I welcomed it more days than I can count.
But things are different now.
No, I realize, shaking my head as I walk toward the front door. I want things to be different, and that's not the same thing.
I close the front door behind me, pulling in a deep breath on the front porch before turning toward the shop. I scan the parking lot, even though I know there's no real need, and fight the urge to punch the metal door before opening it and stepping inside.
The automatic lights turn on with my movement, and I'm grateful to find the building empty.
I walk deeper into the shop, pausing at my bike before turning around to my small work area and pressing my palms to the tabletop. Dropping my head between my shoulders, I close my eyes and take several deep breaths.