Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
And then…there’s Alex.
Alejandro Benito Cruz.
I don’t know what I was thinking. News flash, I wasn’t. I was only feeling, enjoying his mouth, his hands, and sweet Jesus above, that cock. I allowed myself to give him all of my body and did a damn good job keeping my heart out of it. I never asked questions about his past. Though, he always shared. He let me know everything about him. How he grew up in a one-parent home, his dad walking out on him when he was young. How his mother is a strong, incredible Mexican woman who loves fiercely and hard. He is the youngest of four boys and talks to his family daily. I know his pizza order, his fast-food order, and even that he enjoys his tequila with ice and lots of fresh lime. Not as a shot, but as a drink.
The freak.
I pushed Alejandro Cruz away because he was going and I was staying. But if I’m truly honest, I was scared he couldn’t love me. I’m too much. I’m over the top. I was raised in a goddamn cult that my elder sisters had to fight to get us out of. I did things I’m ashamed of and am on medication for. Unlike with my sisters, therapy alone didn’t fix me. It’s helped, but I need medication too. Not that they know that. No one knows that.
When I did admit it to a guy once, he dumped me for needing “crazy people meds.” Then I had a string of every damn guy I was with treating me like shit and taking advantage of my huge heart and my need for love. I learned quickly to protect myself. I never gave Alex an inkling of who I am. He tried, he really did, but I only let him see what I showed him. And when things got too personal, I’d show him my tits or something, and things went back to what I wanted them to be. To us, burning together. The sex was top-notch, and if I’m honest with myself, I still use a lot of what we did as fodder for when I need release. It was that good. He was that good, and just the thought reminds me why I haven’t told him about his child.
One, I don’t want him to ruin his career doing “right” by me.
And two, I’ll fall head over heels in love with him if he does “the right thing.”
Because once he gets to know the real me, he’ll leave me and our baby behind.
CHAPTER 2
Alex
Skate, skate, slide, slide, skate, skate, slide, slide.
I slide to the goal and then skate around it twice before hauling ass down the length of the ice to do it again. My warm-up might seem a bit neurotic, but I’ve been doing it since I was a kid. To me, it’s as easy as breathing, and I don’t know another way. I feel off if I don’t do it this way, even if it means I hit the ice earlier than my teammates. I’m always the first on the ice—well…not since coming to the Nashville Assassins. Here, I fight for ice time with Dimitri Titov and Boon Hoenes. It’s always a toss-up as to which one of them will be out here with me, but they give me my space and allow me to get things done.
As I skate, though, I notice no one is out here today. Not that I’m surprised. The Assassins missed the play-offs by two points. After endless injuries plagued them, this is the first time in years the team hasn’t made it to the postseason. It sucks, but it is what it is. Unlike my teammates, I’m unable to miss ice time. I don’t have a spot with the team. I’m a fill-in for the starter who developed a nasty infection in his hip. I’ve done well in his spot and have been sharp, but I want to be better. I want to stay with the Assassins.
I like it here. Nashville, that is. Lots to do, lots to see, and I love the family feel of the team. I grew up in a big family, all boys and my mom, so being invited to dinners with the Adlers and hangouts with my teammates has been like being home. I’m not saying I didn’t feel like I was at home in Knoxville, but the team isn’t established like the Assassins are. They have traditions and events that have been going on for years. Every holiday is spent together, and Elli Adler, the owner, goes out of her way to make everyone feel a bit of home. For Easter, she made me churros and flan. From scratch. It was incredible and overwhelmed me with love. So much so, that when I told my mom, she wrote Mrs. Adler a thank-you note. It was kind of her, and it only makes me want to stay here with the Assassins.