Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
“Ready, my love?” Marco calls from the door, and I slide off my stool to stand and give my aunt a hug.
“I love you.” She wraps her arms around me. “Make sure you don’t spend all your time inside.”
“I won’t.”
She leans back to look me in the eye. “If you hear that you got accepted into the program, I expect a call.”
“You’ll be the first,” I assure her, giving her one last hug before walking with her to the door to say goodbye to Marco. Once they’re gone and the door is closed behind them, I walk back to the kitchen to clean up. When I’m done, I carry my coffee out to the balcony and take a seat on one of the loungers. I look down at the ocean and the people beginning to gather on the beach. Even from up here, I can hear the buzz of happiness in the air. When did I last have fun or step outside my comfort zone? Never would probably be the truthful answer. I let out a sigh. Maybe my aunt was right. Maybe I do need to live a little.
Chapter 2
Brodie
Lounging at the pool’s edge with my shades on and earbuds in, I listen to my agent drone on about some projects I have coming up with a few brands. Years ago, I would have been thrilled by the idea of representing some sports drink or clothing brand. Now, I despise every second of the extra shit I need to do to stay relevant. Relevant is a term Doug uses, not me. I’d say my ability to score while on the ice keeps me pretty fucking relevant. He’d disagree. And does so regularly.
“So, I’ll meet you in New York in two weeks for the shoot. If you need, I can find you a date for the fundraiser.”
“I don’t need you to do that,” I grumble. He sighs, probably because he knows I’ll show up solo. I have zero desire to date right now. I’m not even interested in having a woman on my arm for a night.
“Brodie.” He exhales an annoyed breath.
“Doug.” I smile.
“Fine. If you need me, you have my cell.”
“Yeah, talk with you later.” I end the call and then glance to my left when I see movement out of the corner of my eye.
With my sunglasses on, I watch the cute little brunette I clocked when I came out to hang by the pool get up from her lounger next to mine. I didn’t notice her because she’s the most stunning woman out here—not that she’s not beautiful. She is. I noticed her because she was reading a book with a strange-looking fish on the cover, unlike the twelve I’d seen with flowers and a few with couples or single men. I also noticed her because she’s the only woman under the age of forty not wearing a bikini. After placing her book on her chair, she adjusts her swimsuit, which looks like something Pamela Anderson wore during the height of Baywatch. Biting her bottom lip, she looks around and then peers at her stuff. I can almost hear her silently debating with herself, wondering if she should leave her things. This pool and the connected bar are private to the building, but that doesn’t mean everyone here lives here full time. People rent out their homes or have family who use the facilities. She likely knows that.
“I’ll watch them.” Startled, her sunglass-covered gaze flies to mine. “If you want to go to the bar or restroom, I’m here and will watch your stuff while you’re gone.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I got you.”
“Thanks. I’ll be right back.” She starts to walk off but stops and spins back to face me, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. “Do you want a water or something?”
“I’m good.” I smile, caught off guard by the offer.
With a nod, she walks toward the bar at the edge of the pool. I watch her noticing a group of guys who have been drinking since I arrived an hour ago—and probably long before that—take notice of her. Three in the group start egging one of them on while pointing in her direction. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but they’re obviously trying to get their friend to go over and talk to her. Not that it looks like he needs the encouragement.
With a cocky smirk, he gets out of the pool with his friends, laughing and acting like a bunch of drunk idiots, then starts his approach after a douchey grin over his shoulder to the guys.
My gaze goes to where she is now standing at the bar. The moment he’s close to her, he reaches for her, placing his hand on her lower back. Jumping in surprise, she looks up at him and then takes a step away, dislodging his touch. When he says something, she shakes her head with a polite smile. He must say something else because she shakes her head again. With a frown, he glances toward his friends, shouting from the pool, then grins and closes the space between them once more. She takes a step back when he reaches out to touch her arm.