Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 135831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
“Max,” she says, exasperated. “Why did you…” She waves to where that pushy dude was crowding her but then shakes her head, like she’s letting go of the whole thing. “Forget it. Let’s go.”
Good. The less she asks, the better. I’m not even entirely sure why I pulled that shit other than I had a feeling he was going to ask her out since I walked in, and she doesn’t need that kind of hassle in her day. From the second I stepped in here to get in line to grab a cup, his eyes were tracking her as she helped Ian pack up. He was totally unable to focus on making a latte for the customers in front of me since his gaze was lasered in on my publicist.
So yeah. I butted in. Everly barely needs a defender, but she got one anyway. “Look, if I was wrong, I’m happy to go find him and play matchmaker for ya. Maybe you two can have a nice stroll in the park and a cup of tea,” I say dryly.
She heaves a sigh as we walk to the door. “No, Max. Obviously I don’t need you to set up the date you already turned down for me.”
“You don’t want to date someone in Seattle anyway, do you?” I ask casually, grabbing the door and opening it. “I mean, aside from last night. You had company, right?”
I’m fishing. I’m totally fucking fishing.
“How would I have had time to see someone last night? With my packed sked and all,” she says, throwing my words back to me.
“So I was helpful, then, to turn that dude down for you,” I say. And I’ve just learned, too, that she didn’t have a hot date last night, which makes me way more pleased than it should. “Bummer that you didn’t get that cake from room service though.”
“What goes better with working late in your hotel room on upcoming publicity plans than cake?” she asks, then quickly types something on her phone. She puts it away once we’re outside the shop-slash-studio and shoots me a serious look. “Why are we having this conversation about dating?”
That’s a fair question too. I don’t care who she dates. Or where she dates them. She vexes me. She pushes me. She drives me crazy. The feeling’s mutual. But it was the principle of it. Some men are just pushy fuckers, and he was looking like he was veering too close to that territory.
And she deserves that answer. It’s not the easy answer I gave her at first, but I should probably say it. “Because you shouldn’t have to deal with that,” I grumble as we head to the arena. “And before you can say it, I know you had it handled.”
“I did,” she says firmly. “I was going to turn him down. You didn’t have to do it for me.”
True. I didn’t. Guess I wanted him to get the message loud and clear. “Look, I didn’t like his dick joke, and he was getting in your space, and it was rude.”
She whips her gaze to me, brown eyes flickering with curiosity. “You noticed that?”
“I noticed it, and I didn’t like it,” I say. “He looked like he was trying to touch your arm. You kept stepping away. He kept stepping closer.”
“True, but he was never inappropriate.”
“Good. He shouldn’t fucking be,” I say, breathing fumes. There’s a special place in hell for men who don’t listen to women. “Look, I saw the crowd of guys he courts. They’re all kind of…a little crass. Shouting stupid jokes. I could tell you didn’t want to be near any of them, let alone him. I took care of it. So sue me.”
She chuckles, rolling her eyes too. “So sue me? That’s your answer?”
“Well, yeah,” I say as we reach the crosswalk.
While we wait, she pins me with her sharp gaze. “See, Max? You do something borderline nice, then you’re kind of flippant.”
I arch a brow. “Was that nice? Not sure I’d agree.”
“It was a nice intention,” she says.
I shudder.
“Aww. Don’t worry I won’t tell anyone about your kind thoughts,” she says.
“Good,” I say, as the pedestrian light blinks green. We’re quiet as we cross, and she seems like she’s mulling something over. When we reach the other side, she tilts her head in question, her brow furrowed, like she’s adding something up that doesn’t quite equate. “You heard the whole thing. You were in line right as he was asking me out?”
I take the alibi she’s offering—the idea that it was a coincidence. Like in a movie when the guy overhears the villain monologuing. Mostly it was. I won’t let on I’d popped into the shop for a cup of coffee, but when I heard those dick jokes I hung around, keeping an eye out. Good thing. I’d figured it’d be a fan getting fresh with her instead of the owner of the shop and the podcast network. So yeah, maybe I was on patrol. Not like I’m going to tell her. She doesn’t need to know I was playing the bodyguard. “Yup. Needed a morning boost. Glad I left that calico at the cat café when I did. But she was so darn cute,” I say, then since I don’t want any of this to seem like a big deal, I nod toward the players’ entrance. “I should go join my teammates for practice. I like to give them a target they can’t get past.”