Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 140742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
As if feeling my attention on her, Mallory glances over, sees Gracie standing with me, and makes a disgusted face as she looks away. The mystery woman turns slightly and my eyes snag on her ass again. Since I don’t live here, fucking her wouldn’t be completely breaking my rule. I’ve never seen her before tonight. Chances are I’ll never see her again after. My thought is interrupted as I watch a guy walk over and whisper something in her ear that makes her frown. I hadn’t even considered that she might have a boyfriend.
“I hate her,” Gracie says suddenly. I cast her a blank look. “The brunette in the tight pink dress. I can’t believe your sister likes her.”
“Who is she?”
“Josslyn Santos.” I ignore the disgust in her tone.
Josslyn. The name suits her. I can’t stop myself from asking, “Why do you hate her?”
“She’s a bitch.” Gracie’s lips pinch like she tasted something sour. Probably the taste of her own bitterness. “She played varsity basketball for Olympia, so I used to see her when we’d go cheer for the guys.”
“Basketball?” My brows furrow as I examine Josslyn. Even in heels, she’s not what I’d consider tall. “Really?”
“She thinks she’s hot shit.”
“Is she?”
“No.”
“Have you seen her play?”
She scoffs. “She’s mediocre at best.”
“Sounds like you’re jealous.”
“I’m not.” Her eyes narrow on Josslyn.
The guy—who looks a little familiar though I can’t place him—pauses mid-sentence when a few girls walk up to Josslyn. Whatever they’re saying makes her smile widen. One of them hands the guy her phone to take a picture of them together. The others follow suit.
“For someone mediocre, she sure has a lot of fans.”
“I can’t imagine why. She has like four hundred thousand social media followers.” Gracie sucks her teeth. “I didn’t realize Mallory was one of her groupies.”
I cut her a look that makes her back straighten. I pull out my phone, see that I have twenty minutes left, and figure I might as well kill the time by finding out who my sister has been hanging out with. Without saying another word to Gracie, I move toward them.
2
JOSSLYN
Finneas Alexander Barlow is a walking thirst trap. Tall, hot, and broody. Tousled brown hair, chiseled jaw, alluring hazel eyes, perfect teeth, well-groomed beard, broad shoulders, and lips that look good enough to bite. He looks like a Disney prince, if the prince was a broody asshole. At least, that’s what I’ve gathered from interviews I’ve seen and people who know him or of him. Which, in Fairview, is everyone.
He plays professional hockey and won the Calder Memorial Trophy his debut year, and the Conn Smythe Trophy two years in a row. Which, according to Damian, is a huge deal. Then again, everything Finn does impresses my stepbrother. And everyone else, for that matter.
On paper, Finn is the total package, which is why I don’t understand the reason he’s been watching me all night. The moment Damian walks away, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I chalk it up to the cold air coming from the vents above us, but when Mallory stops talking and looks at the person who just joined us, I instantly know he’s the reason behind this feeling.
Mallory frowns. “Are you leaving already?”
“Not yet.”
The low timbre in his voice makes my stomach dip. It dips again when my eyes meet his. No picture or interview clip could do this man justice. The storm brewing in those dark green eyes of his should be a clear indication of the destruction he undoubtedly leaves in his wake. Not wanting to get caught in the storm, I look away.
“I’m so happy you’re here.” Mallory smiles, then looks at me. “Oh my God! You two haven’t met. This is the girl I told you about! The one who broke the record for triple-doubles.”
Having her drop my accolades on someone who can fill this club with trophies and medals makes me bite the inside of my cheek to keep from blushing, but I manage to look at him again.
“No kidding,” he says. “I bet you’re going to miss playing.”
“She still plays,” Mal says, laughing. “Do you not pay attention when I talk to you?”
“Not really.”
I press my lips together and look at Mal, who rolls her eyes and then groans when someone calls out her name. “Don’t forget about tomorrow night,” she says, shooting me a stern look before she walks away.
“‘I’ll be there,” I smile.
“What’s tomorrow night?” Finn asks.
“Nothing,” I say too quickly but then add “girl’s night,” so he doesn’t suspect anything.
I look at the floor and hope by the time I look at him again he doesn’t ask me anything. I’m a terrible liar. Plus telling Mal’s brother that she’s taking us to an underground sex club isn’t something I want to disclose to him. Going to the club isn’t my usual thing at all, but Mallory has been showing off about being able to get in even though we’re not even twenty-one yet. She insists that we need to see it for ourselves.