Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 147021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
“I came in my jogging pants from a dry fuck,” he says dryly.
“But that was all friction, and you wouldn’t let me touch you after the fingerbang.” I want to stuff my words back in my mouth and swallow them.
His jaw clenches, and the hand on my hip flexes. “I wouldn’t let you touch me after the—” He clears his throat. “—fingerbang because I didn’t want to embarrass myself. Again.”
I blink at him, and he blinks back at me. It takes me a few seconds to process his admission. “You didn’t want me to touch you because you didn’t think you could…stay in control?”
“That’s a nice way of putting it.”
“Oh.” Well, that’s one hell of an ego boost.
He narrows his eyes. “Don’t make me regret being honest.”
I finger the end of his tie. Which is close to his belt buckle. “I’ll try not to.”
“You’re a real problem, you know that?”
I look up at him through my lashes. “So you keep telling me.”
“Fuck, Aurora. Why do you have to be so damn tempting all the time?” He spears his hands in my hair and claims my mouth in a searing kiss. It makes my knees weak, and heat floods my center. But it’s over as quickly as it began.
He exhales a steadying breath, which calms me. At least we’re struggling to keep ourselves in check together. “Just like you told me what you needed, I’ll tell you what I need. When we get to that point. Which isn’t now, because what I need is for you to let me make you dinner and treat you like the princess you are, at least for the next two hours, okay?”
“I’ll do my best.”
He hands me my wine and takes a hefty gulp of his own.
“Can I do anything to help with dinner?” The sooner we eat, the sooner we can get back to him telling me what else he needs.
“You can keep me company while I finish up.”
“What are we having?” It’s the first time I’ve processed how mouthwateringly delicious it smells in here.
“Fresh rolls from Best Buns Bakery, a mixed green salad with that balsamic dressing you and Rix make, pan-seared sea scallops, and fettuccine Alfredo—and whatever you brought for dessert.”
“Those are all my favorites.” Every time we go for dinner at Greystones, I order the scallops or their peppercorn fettuccine.
“I know what you love.” He kisses me softly on the cheek.
I’m at risk of melting into the floor. Dates with university guys aren’t like this. At all.
“What’s in here?” He taps the dish I brought.
“Rix and I made individual lemon meringue cheesecakes.”
“Lemon meringue is my favorite.”
I smile. “It’s like we know each other.”
He sets his cast iron frying pan on the stove and pulls the scallops out of the fridge, along with the butter. I lean against the counter, happy to watch him work.
“Are you excited to be traveling with the team again?”
“Being with my teammates is good, but sitting on the bench, watching the action and not being able to participate, is a tough headspace to manage.”
He did that last year, too. I don’t know what was worse, watching from the couch with me or from rink side. “Do you think you’ll be cleared for the playoffs?”
“I hope so. I’m healing well and mobility is good. But my physical therapist is focused on what’s down the line, and playoffs are different than the regular season.”
I nod. “They’re way more intense.”
“They are, so I need to be in peak physical condition to be valuable to my team the way I’d like. It’s one day at a time for now.”
Hollis drops a generous pat of butter into the frying pan and rolls his sleeves halfway up his forearms while it melts. This is an image I’ll never forget so long as I live.
I groan. “Seriously, Hollis, how am I supposed to survive two hours when you’re pulling out the forearm porn?”
He arches a brow. “Forearm porn is a thing?”
“Uh, yeah, it’s totally a thing.” I’ve been obsessed with Hollis’s forearms for a long time. See the STUDY MATERIALS folder on my phone for evidence.
“Interesting.” He swirls the butter in the pan, adding two crushed cloves of garlic. “How are classes? You have final projects coming up and exams.”
“Most of my final projects are presentations, which is good.” Even though it was only one semester with Hemi full-time, I’m out of practice with written exams, and my concentration lately hasn’t been the best for memorizing facts. “I learned a lot about how to create dynamic ones, trying to get the Terror front office to do or approve things.”
He smiles. “That’s great. You know, whatever you set your mind to, you can have. The stars are yours. You just need to reach out and grab them.”
“What if I’ve already picked my star? The team is my family. This is where I want to be. Working with Hemi and Tally proved that. Tally and I get each other. We’ve spent our lives next to the ice.”