Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
She leaned against the back of her rental car, which she’d parked a few spots from Brody’s BMW, and scanned the rear entrance of the building, willing him to come out. She’d texted him after the game ended, telling him she was waiting in the players’ parking lot. He messaged back almost instantly to say he’d be out as fast as he could.
God, this day had been pure hell. Listening to Sheila’s awful tale of Presley’s drinking, hearing Doug’s heart break on the other end of the line. She didn’t want to think about any of it anymore. That was why she’d left the penthouse and driven over here. The need to see Brody and lose herself in his arms was so strong she’d been willing to wait out here for nearly an hour.
Other players had already come and gone, several of them giving her strange looks. Derek Jones was the only one to come over to say hello, and he’d seemed to buy her lie that she was waiting for her father.
Now the private lot was empty. When Brody finally emerged from the building, she almost sobbed with relief. And when his midnight blue eyes lit up at the sight of her, she wanted to sob with joy. Maybe their lives didn’t mesh, maybe their careers were colossally different and their goals weren’t aligned, but she couldn’t remember the last time a man had looked so happy to see her.
She couldn’t tear her eyes from him. He looked so good tonight. His hair was damp, his perfect lips slightly chapped. He’d confessed to licking them too much during games. He wore a loose wool suit that couldn’t hide the defined muscles underneath it, and the navy blue color made his eyes seem even brighter, more vivid. She knew the league expected the players to look professional on and off the ice and, she had to admit, she liked seeing him in a suit as much as she enjoyed his faded jeans and ab-hugging T-shirts.
“Hey, sorry that took so long,” he said, approaching her. His expression was subdued. “Coach needed to talk to me about something.”
“I’m sorry about the game. Are you okay?”
“Not really. We got killed tonight.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Unable to stop herself, she stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his lips.
Brody pulled back in surprise, a flicker of humor in his eyes. “What was that for?”
“I don’t know. I feel bad that you lost. And I had a bad day, too. I just wanted to feel your mouth on mine.”
His expression sobered. “What happened?”
“I’ll tell you all about it later. Let’s get out of here first before anyone sees us.”
“Meet you at the hotel?”
She was about to nod when something stopped her. “No. How about we go to your place tonight?”
He seemed baffled, and she honestly couldn’t say she blamed him. Since she’d agreed to explore this…thing…between them, they’d been doing things her way. Brody had asked her over to his place a dozen times, but she always convinced him to stay at the penthouse instead. She’d felt that being on her own turf, sticking to familiar surroundings, would stop things from getting more serious than she wanted.
Yet suddenly, she found herself longing to see Brody’s house, to be with him on his turf.
“All right.” He unlocked the door of his SUV. “You want to follow me in your car?”
“Why don’t we just take yours? I can take an Uber back for mine tomorrow.”
His eyebrows soared again. “You’re just full of surprises tonight, aren’t you? You do realize your father will see your car in the lot and know you didn’t go home?”
“I don’t live my life to please my dad.” She sounded more bitter than she’d intended, so she softened her tone. “Let’s not talk about him. All I want to think about tonight is you and me.”
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sounds like a plan.”
Hayden stood on her tiptoes to kiss him again, and he made her laugh by giving her ass a firm squeeze.
“Save it for later,” she warned.
“Spoilsport.”
The drive to his Hyde Park home was a short one. When they pulled up in front of his place, Hayden was genuinely shocked to see a large Victorian with a wraparound porch and a second-floor balcony. Flowers were beginning to bloom in the beds flanking the front steps, giving the house a cheerful, inviting air.
“Weren’t expecting this, were you?” he said as he shut off the engine.
“Not really.” She smiled. “Don’t tell me you actually planted all those flowers yourself?”
“Fuck no. I didn’t choose the house, either. My mom flew out here when I was drafted by the Warriors, and she found the house. She did all the gardening, too, and she visits once a year to make sure I haven’t destroyed her handiwork.”