Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“Seems like you’re doing a great job.”
“I don’t want her to have to make hard choices again. Like staying with someone who doesn’t treat her right. She deserves a nice home on the water, endless spa days, and as many dinners with her friends as she wants. That is all.”
“I love that you feel that way and that you look out for her like that,” she says, with a tenderness that hooks into me.
“I try,” I say.
We’re quiet for a small stretch of the block then she says, “Thanks for sharing. I know you don’t do that easily.”
Yup. This woman just knows me. “I don’t.”
“But I’m glad you did with me,” she says, then adds, “And I got the impression you were the protector type.”
“That’s not an Enneagram type and you know it,” I say.
“Please. I know. But maybe it should be.”
“Maybe you should consider that my personality type, Miss Inquisitive,” I say, trying to lighten the mood.
“I will,” she says with a playful lift of her chin, one that turns into her eyes straying to my right arm and the ink on it. “What does that all mean? All your compasses?”
She doesn’t let up. She doesn’t ever stop asking questions. But I’ve got to hold something back, so I whisper, “Ask me in bed.”
“Adds that to my to-do list,” she says, and mimes making a check mark.
When we reach the library, she takes one picture as I head inside. A little later, when I leave, she shows me the pics she took. “Hmm. I don’t look like a jackass,” I say.
“You look like a guy who’s quietly posting things that matter to him,” she confirms.
Putting these out there publicly doesn’t do much for me. But if it helps others, it’s worth it.
“I’m like your stylist,” she says, then bumps her shoulder to mine. “Your digital stylist.”
I roll my eyes but only to make light of my next request. A bigger ask. “Want to get tacos? I mean, your boss wants a review of them and all.”
“Aww, is that your only reason for asking? You’re looking out for my job?”
“Yes,” I grumble.
But she knows it’s a lie as much as I do.
We eat and then I walk her back to the bookstore. She stops outside, giving me a nervous but flirty smile as she glances from side to side, like she’s making sure no one’s around. “So,” she begins and her nerves are the cutest thing ever. “Want to come in for a second?”
My skin heats up. “I do,” I say immediately.
A minute later, she’s guiding me to the back of the bookstore, then opening the door to the manager’s office, and the second it closes, I take off her glasses, hook them on her shirt, and hold her face.
She lets out a soft breath.
My heart is pounding. I slant my mouth to hers and kiss her—a slow, sensual kiss. She has to go back to work. I can’t send her out there with her lips all bruised and whisker burn covering her pretty skin. Everyone would know then, and there are no ground rules to cover that. But I want to have all her kisses. The passionate ones, the gentle ones, and the lingering ones, like this. It’s a kiss that feels like a promise that we’ll come together later.
When I pull away, she gazes up at me, then bites the corner of her lips. “Thank you,” she says.
“Anytime,” I say, then I open the door and walk away from her, wishing I could have kissed her one more time before I left.
When I head to the arena a little later, Oliver texts me. I click open the message from the Avengers’ publicist.
Oliver: It’s a brand-new era! Ryker Samuels is on social and we love it.
I huff, but I know this is a good thing.
Ryker: Glad you’re happy.
Really, that’s all that matters. I couldn’t care less, but he cares, so there’s that.
Oliver: Even Bryce Tucker couldn’t make this look bad.
My jaw tightens at the mention of the podcaster who dubbed me King of Grunts. But whatever. I’ve given him nothing to spin the wrong way, and I’m about to shut the message when Oliver sends another.
Oliver: P.S. Is your friend dating the VIP guest? Saw a pic of them at the dog park. So cute!
I stop in my tracks, then click on the shot. There’s nothing romantic in it, but Chase is high-fiving Trina at dusk in the dog park, and my first thought is no one better make any trouble for my buddy and our girl.
My second is that I wish I were the one at the dog park.
And my third is—I need to get on the ice and block out all these annoying thoughts.
22
THE GIRLFRIEND ISSUE
Chase
I’m finishing up on the elliptical at the Sea Dogs gym that afternoon, getting in some light cardio next to Andrei, our top winger, when Erik marches in. Our goalie’s got his game day nothing fazes me attitude on, and he’s waggling his phone my way. Stalking across the gym, he multitasks like the badass he is, trading trash talk with Ledger, who’s doing curls on a weight bench.