DECEIT (B723) by Hazel Grace (ebook reader for surface pro .TXT) 📕

not.” She stops and thinks about it for a quick second, then bobs her head in agreement. “Yeah, I guess I do.” She shrugs dismissively. “Y’all make dumbass decisions. Sorry, dude.”

“And what thought process of mine has been so stupid?”

This time she scoffs and rolls her pretty eyes. “When you wanted to take that Russian out last year in the middle of a horse race.”

“It would’ve been in the bathroom.”

Emmy hits me with a that’s bullshit look. “Mhm. You’re extra as hell. There are cameras and people at those things, you know.”

“Alright, nerd, well I didn’t.”

“I might be a nerd, but I’m a smart one.”

“Isn’t that what nerds normally are?”

“I can look like a geek but not be one. A cute pair of glasses with a white dress shirt and black skirt could do the trick.”

That sounds hot as fuck.

“And of course, heels,” I add in.

She finger-guns me. “Exactly.”

My eyes fall down her white dress that hits mid-thigh and hugs her waist like it was made for her. It also dips between her breasts, daring and dangerous for my fingers to trail a path down her naked skin. “Well...for what it’s worth, you’re the sexiest nerd I’ve ever seen.”

Emmy’s eyes widen, but the corners of her lips curl. “Really?” I nod. “Damn...that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me besides move.”

“You’re always too close.” Emmy tsks at me. “It’s for your own safety, Ems.”

“Why? Do you carry around explosives with you or something?”

I smirk, feeling light as a feather and without a care in the world. “Or something.”

Emmy leans her elbow on the railing and looks up at me with curiosity. “Now I’m intrigued.”

“Are you?” She nods, and I lean in, not giving a flying shit about how inappropriate my next words are or my regretting them tomorrow. “Have you ever thought of fucking me? Because I’ve imagined it a million times with you.”

Emmy’s already pink cheeks from drinking so much flush deeper, and I see her swallow.

So I act bolder and erase some more space between us. My eyes lock with her plush lips, and I want to devour her right here and now.

I’ve spent the last three years with this fantasy of making her mine. I’ve even thought about asking her on a date, even got close once, before Mills busted in the room like the ass clown he is.

I never did come up with the courage to do it again.

I just watch her like a shy middle-schooler with a crush on the hot girl, and I bet she tastes as sweet as she looks.

“No?” I inquire with a perked brow when she doesn’t answer. I mean, I could’ve imagined it all, but sometimes I swear I feel Emmy looking at me.

“I-I...maybe.” My chest presses into hers, and my index finger brushes underneath the soft skin of her chin. “What are you doing?”

“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right?”

“Yes.”

“I booked us a room at the Bellagio. Two beds under Mr. and Mrs. Bishop to keep your respectable reputation intact.”

“Wouldn’t the two beds give it away that we’re not actually married?”

I didn’t think of that while she was buying tacos at one of the food vendors we stopped at. Rookie mistake.

“Maybe.”

“Thank you, though,” she whispers. “That was nice of you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Bishop?” Her eyes sparkle, and it’s probably my buzz, but they’re almost otherworldly.

“Mhm?”

“I think I like you a little.” My body promptly solicits me to kiss her here and now, but the small part of me—the one that’s not so fucked up from mixed drinks—warns me to chill out.

And I need to shut it the hell up with another shot. Or one to get me to black the fuck out, so I want to crash in bed—alone.

It needs to be alone.

“Wanna go hit another bar?”

Emmy narrows her eyes. “That’s it?”

“I’m flattered?” She pulls her face from my touch and steps back, a flash of regret forming over her features. “I think you’re hot, Ems. Trust me, the things I’ve thought about you are not soft and cuddly.”

“So, just the normal guy stuff?”

I lift my shoulders. “I guess, but if you’re asking me to marry you, then the answer is yes.” Her brows furrow. “Does that not key you in on how I feel, Ems?”

“Not...really…?”

I take back the space between us and bend over her face, leaving an inch between our lips. “Then how’s this…marry me.”

“Why?” She blurts out through knitted brows. Her nose twists in, I hope, confusion and not disgust.

“I think you’d make me happy, and I swear to God fucking you every night would be the highlight of everything I’ve ever done in my life. I’ll protect and do my best to make you the most satisfied woman in the world. I practically drool the moment you walk into the room, Emmy. That’s pretty close to worship.”

Emmy smiles. “You’re crazy.”

“Glad you noticed.”

“Shouldn’t we go on a date first before you start poppin’ off insane questions?”

“Be mine, and I’ll take you wherever you want. Don’t you think calling yourself Mrs. Bishop for real is sexy as fuck.” I graze her lips with mine, feeling her exhale hitch off my mouth. “I think it is. Even better, wife.”

“You’re serious?” she breathes, her chest coming out in sporadic intakes of air.

“As a fucking heart attack.”

She searches my face for a lie. To probably see if I’m really serious.

I know I am.

I know this is a dumbass way to go about this.

I know that I’ll probably never get another opportunity like this ever again.

I have nothing but B723 in my life. I want to add to that. I crave a family of my own. I think I’m ready to let someone into all the darkness in my head.

And Emmy is nothing but sunshine and smiles. She’s kind and sweet, always looking out for everyone on the squad.

Yeah, she’s a little domineering at times. But I’m an asshole. We’ll balance each other out perfectly.

“You’ll regret it in the morning.”

I lift a brow. “Will I? I asked you to marry me, didn’t I?”

“But you’re drunk.”

“Buzzed,” I correct.

“I’m not