Page 117 of The Villain We Tempt

Nacho’s brow furrows. “Are you telling me to date your cousin?”

“Oh dear God, no,” I say with a tight smile.

Nacho would have better luck surviving football tryouts than he would a single date with that stabby little muppet.

“I just mean, not all girls are into football dudes. A lot aren’t.”

Nacho’s shoulders slump. “But…I mean, you’re alwaysdrowningin pussy.”

Not fucking lately, pal.

I mean, yeah, I’ve had my mouth and hands all over Galina. I’ve had my cockagainsther deliriously enticingly pussy, and smeared my cum all over it.

But I haven’t been inside her.

And seeing as I also haven’t evenlookedat another girl since the night of the Para Bellum party when Galina and I first crossed paths, this means it’s been over a month since I’ve fucked anyone.

That’s actually the thing in all this that’s throwing me for the biggest loop.

It’s not just that IwantGalina. It’s not just that my behavior toward her…the stalking, the obsession, the games…is miles past anything remotely excusable.

It’s that I want her, but also that Ido not wantanyone else.

At all.

As much as I’m trying to make him feel better, Nacho isn’t wrong: college girlsdotend to want to have sex with football guys. Over the past month, I’ve ignored or rejected probably twenty offers from girls to—at times quite literally—“do whatever I want with them”.

Two months ago, I’d be grinning like an asshole.

Now, I block those girls and go back to watching Galina pick her outfit for the day, or brush her teeth, or touch herself, via the hidden spy cameras in her room.

Totallynormal behavior. Nothing at all that rings any alarm bells.

Right?

“So, what else do you know about this girl?” I ask Nacho.

He shrugs. “Honestly, not much.” His brow furrows. “She’s really into books.”

“Well, shit, man!” I grin at him. “You read all the time! There’s your in.”

He frowns. “She readsromancebooks.”

I bite back a grin.

She probably watches my content…

“So, pick one up and read it,” I shrug. “Discuss it with her, bam, you’re in.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not that simple.”

“My man, it really is?—”

“Yeah, if you look likeyou!” he blurts.

I exhale heavily as I clap him on the shoulder. “Look, Nacho…you’re a good guy. Okay, you might not be destined for the Privateers, but you’ve got great clothing style, and you drive that sweet Ferrari!”

His mouth curls into a small smile.