[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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Tristan
Two hours was the maximum amount of time that I could sit still for. By the end of it, my knee was jackhammering under the desk, I was twirling a pen in between my fingers, and I couldn't sit in one position for more than ten seconds. I tried to stop when Hannah shot me a pointed glare, but I was practically bursting at the seams.
I dropped the pen, giving up on trying to concentrate, and glanced over to see what Hannah was up to. She was focused on her laptop, fingers dancing across the keyboard. When I leaned over to glance at her screen, both of my eyebrows shot up into my hairline.
She was googling how to get rid of a dead body.
"Are you googling that because of me?"
Without missing a beat, she answered, "Yes."
I chuckled and leaned closer, my chest inches away from her shoulder. "Here's how I'd do it: call the cops anonymously and give them some coordinates — tell them there's a dead body buried there. They'll dig a hole looking for it, but they won't find anything. And now I have a hole already dug for me, and they have no reason to look there again. For good measure, I'd bury a dead animal on top so that if any dogs searched, that's what they'd find. But chances are they won't think to search again."
She looked at me, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Chances, hm? I don't think I like the sound of that. I want a sure-fire, no-evidence-left kind of plan. I have a future, you know." Her smile widened, and it was pure evil genius. "I think I have an idea, but I still have to figure out how I'm going to drag your f... big body around."
"You were going to say fatass, weren't you?"
"Your words, not mine." She covered her smile with her hand, looking down.
I grinned and leaned closer to say, "Take me to the place you want to kill me, Hannah. I promise I'll go willingly. I'll even let you do whatever you want to me."
She chuckled nervously, clearing her throat as she chanced a quick glance at me. She paused when she noticed my proximity before quickly recovering and saying, "If you're hoping I'll murder you in my bedroom, then I have bad news for you. It will not be happening near a bed."
Grinning, my eyes briefly dropped down to her lips before returning to those almost-transparent eyes. "Okay, so where, hypothetically, would you kill me?"
She shook her head in disbelief. "This is such a stupid conversation. You're the victim, remember?"
"You started it, and now you have to finish it. And I'm the willing victim, remember?"
She let out a small, breathy laugh, and it made my heart squeeze in my chest. Before I could analyze that reaction, she gave me her answer. "Well... I know you'd either go for something flashy or something sentimental. So, how do you feel about being buried on top of Pikes Peak? Flashy enough for you?"
