Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
* * *
I’m putting on my shoes when I hear the front door open. Standing, I look at myself in the mirror. Okay, it’s a bit risqué but whatever. The one-piece black dress has a plunging neckline, spaghetti straps, and no back, and then the dress part turns to leather, stopping mid-thigh on one side and then long on the other. I paired it with a simple black shoe with a strap around my toes and another around my ankle. I ignore the fact that I chose this dress as a huge up yours to Viktor. Even though he won’t see me in it, I’ll know.
“Are you almost ready?” Zara yells.
“Yes,” I say. Grabbing my shawl to cover myself, I walk out of the bedroom and then down the stairs.
“I’m ready,” I say once I get to the last step and turn to look at them in the living room, except it’s not just the two of them.
“Oh my God,” Evan says, but my eyes are on the man I’m trying not to think about; the man I literally can’t get involved with. “She needs to go change,” Evan says, looking at Zara.
I change my face and then look at Evan. “It’s a night out,” I tell him. “Besides, this is Zara’s.” Looking back at Viktor, I feel my mouth go suddenly dry, my heart beating so fast I look down to make sure it isn’t coming out of my chest. “What are you doing here?” I try not to stare too much at him standing in the middle of my living room a couple of hours after telling me that nothing would happen between us. A couple of hours after I told him I was going on a date. This can’t be happening.
Chapter Thirteen
Viktor
Standing in the middle of her living room, I have to put my hands in my pockets to keep from going over to her and covering her with my body and burying my hands in her hair because she looks hot as fuck. I look down at my feet and give myself an internal talk. You can’t date her, I repeat three times just in case. The minute she closed the door to the apartment after our talk, I sat on the couch. Or better yet, my legs were shaking, and I slumped onto the couch. I knew I had to talk to her and put all the cards on the table. I knew this, yet it stung harder than I anticipated.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, and I wonder if this is such a great idea.
“Yeah, I called Zara about tomorrow, and Evan forced me out,” I tell her, and she turns to glare at Evan.
“That isn’t Zara’s outfit,” Evan says, giving me a chance to catch my breath. “I won’t even have backup tonight,” he says. “It’s just me. How am I going to fight off all the men?”
“Our reservations are in twenty minutes,” Zara says. “Let’s go.” She turns around to join Zoe, and they walk out of the living room, leaving just Evan and me.
“This should be fun,” he says sarcastically and walks out of the room, and I follow him. I think about ways to bail or different excuses I could use to get out of this and go home. Especially if we are going to be meeting Zoe’s date at the restaurant. I walk out of the house and see that both girls have gotten in the back seat. “Dinner and dancing on a Saturday night, who planned tonight?” Evan says, complaining when we get into the front seat.
“Your wife,” Zoe says. “I would have been more than happy with pizza and beer.”
“We could always go somewhere else.” I look over at her.
“You know where we can go? That new Korean barbecue restaurant that I’ve been dying to go to,” she says with a huge smile, looking at Zara.
“I think you need reservations,” Zara says, then looks at Evan. “I mean, I could name drop.”
“Ugh with the name drop. We should mention Matthew or Doug,” Evan says, mentioning Karrie’s dad and the owner of the team.
“Good call,” Zara says and then calls the place. “Hi, I’m wondering if you have space for four people tonight?” she says, and then she just listens. “It would be for the captain of the Stingers and his wife.” She smiles. “We will be there in twenty minutes.” She smiles, looking up. “They will make a place for us. Now let me call and cancel the other reservations.”
I wait for her to finish and then tell her, “You know what that means, right?” Zoe turns to Zara. “Someone just got shafted on their date night. Sorry, honey, that night out is canceled because the captain of the hockey team wants a table.”
“It is not,” Zara says.