The Worst Kind of Promise (Riverside Reapers #2)
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Read between January 1 - January 7, 2024
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And instead of dreading the time away, I look forward to when I’ll get to see him again.
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Yes, I was surprised that Kit’s dick didn’t tear my hymen for the second time, but I like Kit’s dick. I don’t like needles.
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“Hold my hand,” he says. I raise my brow. “I thought you said it didn’t hurt?” “It doesn’t. I just want to hold your hand.”
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“When Kit told me he wanted to cover up his tattoo, I almost didn’t believe him. Those eyes are famous in the hockey world. Got his name from them and everything. But after seeing y’all together, I get it.” “Hey, I can make good decisions sometimes,”
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He’s talking about me. I’m his good decision.
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“You’d be so hot with a tattoo, Princess,”
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“You are, but you’d be even hotter. Like break-the-laws-of-physics hot.”
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Kit stands in front of me with a massive bouquet in one hand and a small box in the other, inducing fear to stutter the beat of my heart—to drench me in even more sweat.
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“You’re not supposed to be here,”
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“It’s nice to see ...
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Flowers? Box? Unexpected visit? Oh, God. This seems to be edging into proposal territory.
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“Whoa, there. Hold your horses, buckaroo. I don’t want to see whatever million-dollar gem is in that box.”
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“You think I’m proposin...
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I hold up a rusty-looking key, fairly certain I’ll need a tetanus shot after touching it. “A key?” I ask, anxiety fermenting inside me and churning my belly.
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“Not just any key, Princess. A key to a house I bought in Pennsylvania.”
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“It’s you and me, Princess. Until the end of time.”
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