G.O.A.T.: Greatest Of All Time (Get Some Book 2) by Frankie Love & C.M. Seabrook

Author:Frankie Love & C.M. Seabrook [Love, Frankie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-08-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Nash

When we get back to the Adrenaline Rush HQ, it’s after dark. We walk to my car since Kenna left with the one she came in. I offered to drive her back to her cousin’s place, but where I really want to take her is back to my bed.

But Tessa was quiet on the way down the mountain. And I can tell she’s pulled into herself, her thoughts consuming her. And I get it.

I know she’s had one hell of a week.

And one hell of a day. I don’t want to push her, but I also don’t want her to go. I want her to come back to my loft, to sleep in my bed. To wake up by my side.

Shit, one solid day with this girl and it’s hook, line, and sinker. I’m hers.

“Want to come home with me?” I ask, wrapping my arms around her.

“That sounds great, but...” She twists her lips, and I can tell her mind has gone someplace else. “I should get back to Kenna’s.”

“Right, of course,” I say, pulling back. Not wanting to push myself on her, but hell, I want her. And not just because I want to be buried inside of her again. I want so much more than just sex. But I know she’s not thinking the same thing. Hell, she was supposed to be getting married tomorrow to another guy. Her head and heart aren’t in the same place as mine. But I can be patient, because the thought of losing her again shreds me.

We get in my truck and I drive her to Kenna’s, tapping the steering wheel as I make my way down the dark, mountain roads toward the suburbs.

Tessa has gone from a bubbly-vejazzled-orgasm-queen to being quiet as a mouse.

“Everything okay?” I ask, reaching over and taking her hand. She doesn’t pull away, but I can feel the wall she’s slowly built between us.

“Totally.” She smiles tightly, unrolling the window. The breeze feels nice, the sweet scent of the pine trees wafting around us. The moon is full and heavy, and so is the air.

“The moon was full the night we met, too,” I say, not liking the silence.

“I remember,” she says softly. “We were out under the stars. On a blanket.”

“That whole night felt like it was out of a high school movie. Basic guy losing his virginity with the rich girl.”

“What?” she whips her head around, brows drawn down. “And who am I in this scenario?”

“The rich—” I stop talking, realizing how that might come across. “Okay, calling you the rich girl sounds bad. But you know, the Ivy League girl, the one who is so much more polished than the guy headed out for boot camp. That’s why I figured you gave me the wrong number. Girls like you—”

“Girls like me?” she says, her words dripping with frustration and a hint of anger. She pulls her hand away and crosses her arms. “And what exactly am I?”

Shit. I know I’ve stuck my foot in my mouth, but I’m not exactly sure why she’s so upset.

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