[18+] ENEMIES TO LOVERS SPORTS ROMANCE.
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Hannah Walker doesn't trust anyone, especially men.
They're manipulative and toxic - her lousy ex taught her that lesson well.
Enter Tristan Beckett, the embodiment of everything she despises. He's arr...
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H: Thanks for the coffee. I don't think I would have survived without it.
T: I figured you were gonna be tired. I didn't exactly go easy on you.
H: If easy means letting me go to sleep before 4 in the morning, then no, you didn't go easy on me..
I could still feel him, especially when I sat down or crossed my legs. And I was so tired. Tristan had only allowed me to have power naps last night — so I would sleep for a max of two hours before he woke me up again. His stamina both impressed and terrified me, as did his ability to drive me crazy with desire each time.
H: I know your game is still a while away, and this is such a girly question, but what should I wear? When I was there last time, everyone was all dressed up in team colors and merch. I don't own any of that stuff.
T: Wear nothing.
T: On the other hand, if you wore nothing, I'd lose because I'd be too busy staring at you the whole time, so maybe that's a bad idea.
H: Right, because I was seriously considering that option.
T: I'm sensing a hint of sarcasm. Don't worry about it, what you wore last time was fine. If you want to show some support, maybe you could wear a low-cut top and paint my number on your tits? I feel like seeing your tits would really motivate me.
H: My brother's coming with, remember? There's no way I'm wearing anything less than PG with him around. And you already know what they look like.
T: Not with my number on them, I don't. I feel like they would look so pretty.
H: I'm sure you'll survive.
H: Oh, because this is a home game, are your parents or any other family members gonna be there? Do I need to hide from anyone?
T: My parents are in Italy for their anniversary, my brother's busy with a work thing, and my sister lives in Canada with her husband. You can put away the camouflage.
I chuckled and went to reply when someone bumped into me. It wasn't too hard — but it was enough to make me stumble back and almost drop my phone. Irritation raced through me and I opened my mouth to give whoever it was a piece of my mind, but a soft voice interrupted me.
"I'm so sorry!" The person squeaked, small hands grabbing at my arm to stabilize me.
I blinked in surprise when I saw the girl from the bathroom — Beth, standing right behind me. She was empty-handed and wearing an apologetic look on her face.
"It's okay, I'm fine. Are you hurt?" I asked, looking her over. She was just as pale and thin as before, dressed in a white blouse and floral skirt.
"Oh, I'm not hurt, thank you. Sorry for bumping into you, I tend to daydream a lot and don't always watch where I'm going. Silly me," she smiled softly, fingers tangling in her skirt.
