Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
“What?”
“Can we talk about Hayley now?”
Brody’s guard rose.
“What, you’re using code names with her now?”
“No, Jones just didn’t get a good look at my phone. She’s in there as Hayden.”
Becker leaned in on his forearms, lowering his voice. “Kid. You know I love you. But you need to cut this out, man. I told you last week at the Gallagher Club—you can’t be fucking the team owner’s daughter.”
Brody’s mood shifted from wariness to annoyance. “I’m not just fucking her. I’m dating her.”
Well, sort of. Hayden still considered it a fling. But he was confident she could feel it shifting, same way he could.
“Shit, that’s even worse.”
“How is that worse?” Brody challenged.
Becker sighed, running a hand through his hair. “We’re all under investigation right now. Every single one of us needs to look as clean as a whistle. And getting involved with the owner’s daughter? That’s not a good look.”
Brody set his jaw. “Hayden has nothing to do with her father and any accusations being made against him.”
“You don’t know that. If he did do it, maybe he confided in her. And maybe she’ll confide in you. Drag you into this whole mess.” Becker held up his hands in a calming gesture. “I’m just telling you this because I give a shit about you. Perception matters, especially in situations like this. You need to be careful until all this blows over.”
Brody clenched his jaw, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “I can’t control what people say or think. I haven’t done anything wrong, and I’m not about to stop seeing Hayden just because her father may or may not be guilty.”
“This isn’t just about you. It’s about the team. The last thing we need is more drama and distractions.”
“There is no drama. Hayden and I are being discreet. And I fucking like her. You want me to give up something real because of some damn investigation? I’m not doing that, Sam.”
His teammate looked startled. “Something real?” he echoed warily.
“Yeah, man. Something real. She makes me happy. I get excited to see her, and I miss her when she’s not around. So, no, I’m not giving that up.”
Becker’s eyes flashed with frustration, then dissolved into resignation. “Fuck. Fine.” He shook his head and brought his glass to his lips, taking another swig of whiskey. “Just don’t come crying to me when it all blows up in your face.”
Twenty-Two
“You made it!” Hayden said in surprise when her father approached the corner table where she’d been waiting for the past fifteen minutes.
It was Thursday morning, nearly a week since she’d seen him at the charity gala, and while they’d arranged to meet for breakfast in the city, she hadn’t actually expected him to show. She’d assumed his assistant would call to cancel at the last minute, and the fact that he was fifteen minutes late had only strengthened that conviction.
And yet, here he was, clad in a tailored dark gray suit, his hair perfectly styled and his green eyes sparkling at the sight of her.
“Don’t sound so surprised,” he teased as she rose from her chair to hug him hello.
Presley kissed the top of her head, then helped her back into her chair. The restaurant his assistant had chosen for them was obviously in high demand, because even at eight thirty in the morning, it was completely packed. Apparently, it opened at seven thirty every weekday morning to cater to the high-powered professionals before they started their super-busy, super-important days. People like her father.
“I am surprised,” she admitted. “I sort of thought you’d cancel again.”
Regret flickered through his eyes. He opened his mouth to respond, but their server hurried over, interrupting them. He ordered an espresso, then waited until she was gone before addressing Hayden.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I really am. When I asked you to come home, I truly thought I’d have more time to spend with you. But the playoffs have been so much more intense this year. And now we’re in the second round, and the pressure is on.”
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She knew her dad had an important job, but it wasn’t like he was out there on the ice every couple nights, putting his body through hell to secure a win. He acted like he was the reason for the Warriors’ successes, which could be partially true, but each time he boasted about it, he neglected to acknowledge the players. For some reason, she found herself getting defensive on Brody’s behalf.
God. How was she this invested in a fling? It wasn’t supposed to be serious, damn it. It was supposed to be about sex. About playing out some fantasies. Getting each other off. Yet, she was constantly thinking about the guy. Wondering how he was. Worrying about him when he was on the ice. One of the Colorado players had left last night’s game and entered concussion protocol, which only highlighted how dangerous the sport could be.