[18+] ENEMIES TO LOVERS SPORTS ROMANCE.
*REWRITTEN*
°•°•°•°
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 despis...
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As per usual, I woke up alone.
It was the price I paid for choosing a morning person. And now, I found myself in the company of not one, but two early risers, both awake well before it should have even been considered legal.
Every morning, Cassie climbed into bed with us for some snuggles under the blankets — but inevitably, Tristan and her would start whispering to each other. Aware of my need for more sleep, he'd whisk her away to start their morning routine. While Cassie usually did her homework or drew, Tristan busied himself with some work, helping her whenever she needed it. I usually came down around eight and we would all have breakfast together.
Groaning, I reached for my phone on the bedside table, my hand blindly searching until I found it. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, I squinted at the harsh glow of the screen until the time came into focus — nearly half past eight. I was a little late this morning.
There was one message from Bailey so I opened it.
B: I'm ordering another girl. I have too much wisdom to impart, and it would be wasted on a boy.
With another groan, I returned my phone to its resting place and face-planted back into the huge, fluffy pillow.
I stayed up late last night, putting the finishing touches on the culmination of years of painstaking research my team and I had poured our hearts and souls into. Our exploration into the effects of various hydrogel compositions on cell viability, proliferation, and differentiation was no small feat. It had taken us years, and now, all our findings had finally been encapsulated within the pages of a single document — so it had to be perfect. I was confident things would go well at the BMES conference.
Dressed in loose pajama shorts and a small matching cami, I reluctantly relinquished the warmth of the bed and sat up with a yawn and stretch. Our bed was a behemoth of a thing because Tristan insisted on getting a custom-made bed to fit his size — but that also meant it was hard ever to want to leave it.
As I stood up, my feet sank into the plush expanse of the carpet surrounding the bed and I ambled toward the drawn curtains, shrouding the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. With a firm tug, I pulled the curtains open, and warm sunlight flooded the room. Blinking against the sudden brightness, I was immediately met with the beautiful view of the valley below, a panoramic sight that Tristan had painstakingly chosen when he first considered buying the land. Towering Douglas firs, spruces, and pines covered the valley floor, while our position at the peak gave us an unrivaled view of the landscape.
Despite the forests stretching out as far as the eye could see, we were only a twenty minute drive from Denver. Initially, Tristan and I spent a couple of years traveling between Colorado and Nevada while I completed my degree. And then, while I was getting my Ph.D, Tristan's contract with Nevada came to an end, so he signed with our home team and we moved to the city.
