Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 122514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
I headed out.
Then I smiled.
The balls were all there, in the same spot where I’d left them.
They were good balls, trainable balls. I felt an odd amount of pride in these two inanimate objects and scooped them up. Cradling them as if they were my balls, I took them inside the cage.
The screen door creaked open and slammed shut a second later, and a guy walked around to the front of the cage, decked out in all white.
He had the swoosh symbols on his shoes, his pants, and his warm-up windrunner, and over his left chest was the Seattle Thunder lightning bolt. His hair was shaved on the sides with the top long and healthy, a sandy mix of browns. I wasn’t even sure if he was blond or had brown hair. The length was pulled back into a messy bun—one I was jealous of.
He moved toward me briskly, as if it were his normal speed, but he was constantly being told to slow down for the rest of us mere mortals.
“Are you in charge of the courts? Charl—” He cut himself off, his head cocking to the side.
I would’ve bet money that he knew my name was Charlie, but he wanted to be the guy who called me Charlotte instead. That wasn’t my name, but some men felt special, thinking they’d guessed the right name and called me that instead of the nickname everyone else used.
There’s a reason it’s used, and that’s because I like it.
I finished for him, “ie.”
He blinked. “Huh?”
“Charl-ie. That’s my name.”
“Right.” His head lowered, but his eyes remained trained on me. His eyebrows pinched together as if he’d stepped into an invisible pile of poo, but he couldn’t see it or smell it. He only had the feeling it was there. “Charlie. That’s you?”
“That’s me.”
“You’re a girl.”
It came out accusatory.
I scowled. “You’re a boy.” This game was fun.
He frowned. “Yes?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
He scratched behind his ear. “What’s happening here?”
I was tempted to scratch behind my ear too, but I refrained. Barely. “Nothing. What’s going on with you?”
His frown deepened. “You’re…”
Here we go again. I almost sighed. “A girl. Yes.”
“What?”
I relented. “You’re Aiden?” And he was confused by my name?
“Aiden Marshall.” He stuck his hand out. “I’m one of the trainers for the team,” he said. “Keith mentioned you could be in charge of making sure the water is fully stocked.”
He led me over to the screen door between the outdoor courts and the indoor area. “I was thinking of having a table here. Water. Sports drinks. Protein and energy drinks and snacks. Then towels. Keith said you could help with the towels too.”
I was fairly certain Keith might’ve mentioned I was here to do their bidding, but I refrained from that comment too.
“How many do you need?”
“Anything we need to specially order, we’ll already have, but if you could just make sure the tables are fully stocked. I was thinking around a hundred towels. Some of the players use a couple at a time.”
“Just regular towels?” Not heated? I was already thinking of how we could get a steamer in here to hold the towels and how I could avoid that catching on fire.
“Yeah. Just hand towels. We brought some with us, but any you have on hand would be helpful. And ice baths. Do you guys have enough ice to supply for an ice bath?”
Oh shit. That would take large tubs. And ice, lots and lots of ice.
“I’ll tell Grant about that. He’s maintenance, so he’d be doing the ice baths for you guys.”
Seriously, Keith? He told them we’d handle that? That sounded like an enormous pain in the ass, but it was just like him to offer.
“Grant.” Aiden dipped his head forward. “You’re right. I’ll talk to Grant myself about the ice baths. We’ll need a few tubs filled every day too.”
Tubs. Got it.
I gave a bouncing nod and said, “You think a portable tub would make a good sled on a glacier?”
He stared at me.
“Never mind.” I whipped around, intending to go for the screen door. A quick exit was always a good choice after one of those slipped out. Instead, I smacked into a chest.
Or I would’ve except, two strong hands grabbed my biceps and caught me.
It happened so quickly, not even half a second.
I saw the wall of muscle in front of me and closed my eyes. I opened them after being stopped and was an inch away.
Gulp.
I already knew. I knew because I was this guy’s stalker, and that should’ve made me all giddy and euphoric. It didn’t. Instead, dread surged in my gut like an Olympic runner taking off after the starting gun popped.
My eyes moved up and up and up, over a defined chest to strong biceps and where they met his broad shoulders. His throat had the slightest stubble, as did his chin. I looked over his perfectly formed mouth, up to his nose and landed right on those hazel eyes that I swore were smoldering. Again.