Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 92422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“Thanks, but I didn’t order anything,” I say to the good-looking center who settles at the far end of the table next to Steele. He’s a junior and Bridger’s cousin. Now that I know they’re related, I can see the family resemblance. They both have mahogany colored hair and dark blue eyes.
Now that I’m hanging out with the girls more, they’ve been explaining who all the guys on the team are. There’s sixty of them, and it’s not easy to keep everyone straight. Especially the ones who don’t get ice time.
Steele nods toward Colby. “He ordered it for you.”
With a frown, I glance at him. We’re close enough for me to feel the warmth of his breath ghosting across my lips. It’s a little dizzying.
It shouldn’t be.
In fact, he shouldn’t affect me at all.
“When did you do this?”
“While we were talking with Brayden. I saw them in line and shot Hayes a text.”
“The plan was to grab a protein bar and run,” I mumble while staring at the soup and sandwich. It’s almost a surprise how touched I am by the gesture. But instead of softening everything inside me, it reinforces how imperative it is to keep my distance.
Not only physically, but emotionally as well.
This guy will steadily chip away at my defenses if I let him.
“It’s chicken and wild rice.” Unaware of the thoughts circling around in my head, he nudges my shoulder with his broader one. “It’ll help warm you up since you seemed so opposed to my previous suggestion.”
I huff out a chuckle as some of my growing tension dissolves.
“It’s a good mix of carbs and protein,” he adds when I don’t make a move toward my lunch. “Exactly what you need to power through the rest of your day.”
“Thank you.”
“Not a problem. Now eat up before your soup gets cold. Otherwise, I’ll be forced to warm you up myself.”
“I don’t want that,” I blurt before I can stop myself.
“I didn’t think so.” His eyes spark with challenge. “At least, not yet.”
He rips off the wrapper of his sandwich and digs in. Just like last night, he attacks his food with gusto as if he hasn’t been fed in days. I glance around the table and realize his teammates are doing the same.
It must be an athlete thing.
Or maybe a hockey thing.
It’s certainly not a guy thing. The ones I know in LA are just as health conscious as the women.
As I lift the plastic cover, steam rises from the bowl and the scent of wild rice and chicken hits me, making my mouth water.
“Looks good,” he says, eyeing the container between bites.
“Actually, it does.” Even though I’ve been on campus since August, I rarely stop and sit down to eat with friends. I’ll grab a bar or a piece of fruit. Maybe a sandwich to chow down on the run if I’m really hungry.
I dip the utensil into the bowl before lifting it to my lips and blowing on it for a second or two. The first spoonful proves to be just as delicious as its aroma suggests. After a few bites, I realize that it’s doing exactly what Colby said and warming me up from the inside out.
I glance around the table and reluctantly admit that this is nice. The camaraderie and friendships. The easy banter back and forth.
It’s exactly what I spent years secretly longing for.
Midway through my meal, Stella poses a question to the table. “Does anyone watch All Day Long with Bebe?”
Those eight little words are enough to kill my appetite. I freeze, spoon poised midway to my mouth.
She glances at Juliette, Carina, and Viola before her gaze fastens onto mine. I give my head a little shake as my fingers tremble. It’s carefully that I place my utensil back in the bowl before any soup can spill onto the table. The last thing I want to do is draw any further attention to myself.
“You’re such an addict when it comes to reality TV,” Fallyn says with a laugh.
“Isn’t that the show about the singer who went viral when she was a teenager?” Juliette asks.
I swipe my damp palms against the sides of my jeans as the conversation swirls around me, picking up steam. I had no idea any of them watched the show.
No one’s ever mentioned it before.
Maverick groans. “Please tell me that you’re joking. Reality TV is such garbage.”
Stella sticks out her tongue. “Don’t judge. It’s a guilty pleasure. Like cotton candy for the brain.”
“If you say so,” he mutters, clearly not understanding the attraction.
When I started hanging around with the girls, Stella explained that she, Juliette, and Maverick were related. Their father, Brody McKinnon, is her older half-brother, which technically makes her their aunt.
But they’re more like cousins and super close.
Riggs presses a kiss against Stella’s cheek. “You’re adorable. I’d never judge you.”