Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
I laugh. “I am wildly confident that won’t happen,” I say, mocking her choice of words. “I’m gonna ask him to meet up with me after the photo shoot, so we can discuss these ground rules. I wanted to get through this weekend first, see the reaction.”
She shakes her phone at me. “You knew the reaction would be this.”
“I did, but still, I have to make sure he knows what he is getting into.”
“Do you know what you’re getting into?”
I grin. “Yes, an A+ on my project.”
I make my declaration with all the confidence in the world, but as we leave for the game, Callie’s words haunt me. I ignore them, though, ignore the racing of my heart, and focus on how to sell that I’m interested in Benson once I get to the arena. It won’t be hard to watch him intently on the ice—I love seeing him play—but I have to remember to record him and act as if he is the only one on the ice.
I doubt I’ll be acting.
Chapter Nine
Benson
I hadn’t expected Quinn to invite me to lunch last minute, but I was down without a thought. He’s my homie, but what I sure as hell didn’t expect when I walked into our favorite Italian spot was to find him sitting beside his…fuck, his fiancée.
Ava Mettison is a very beautiful girl. She has extremely straight blond hair that is cut in a bob. Her eyes are a bright hazel, more green than brown. They slant a bit, especially with the cat eye makeup she has drawn on. Her lips are thin, and her nose is long and hooked at the end, while the shape of her face reminds me of a heart. She is very skinny too, model-skinny, and makes me think of one of those perfect Instagram girls. Not like Cameron, though; Cameron will video herself waking up with snot on her nose and with a Snickers hanging out of her mouth.
I may have screenshotted that photo just because it makes me smile, but Ava… I don’t think Ava does anything but exist in perfection.
She is everything Emery Brooks is not, and ahfuckme, it doesn’t feel right.
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t like the way Emery treated my boy, but at least she was honest from the top. He just loved her more than she loved him, I guess. Or maybe she was scared. I don’t know. But man, I don’t like Ava and Quinn together. It doesn’t even sound right.
For me, it’s always been Quinn and Emery. Em and Q.
One thing is for sure, I wouldn’t be bored out of my mind if Emery were here. That’s not fair, though. I should give Ava a chance. My boy is marrying her. I have to try for him.
Clearing my throat, I ask, “So, Ava, are you from Nashville?”
Quinn doesn’t look up from his lasagna, but Ava’s gaze does meet mine. “Yes.”
I wait and…nothing. She looks back to her chicken salad, and yeah, this is gonna be hard for me. Quinn looks at her and then me before saying, “She grew up in Brentwood, and actually, her grandparents were songwriters for some pretty huge country superstars, and her parents sing at their church. Her dad is a preacher, and her mom is the choir director.”
I blink and wait for Ava to elaborate, but she doesn’t. Man, this is a blast. “That’s super cool.”
“Yeah, Benson grew up on a llama farm in Canada and is now living that city life,” Quinn says with a grin. “He’s the best dude I know.”
Yeah, I gotta try for this guy. My homie.
Ava looks up at me through her lashes. “I could tell you were from Canada. Your accent is a bit thick.”
“Yeah, you can take the boy out of Canada, but I can’t leave the accent. At least I left the llamas, eh?” I joke, and Quinn laughs, his laughter booming, but Ava is stone. I meet Quinn’s gaze, and he just shrugs before shaking his head to let me know she’s not a talker.
I mean, what the hell did he do? Find Emery’s exact opposite? I know he’s my guy, but what the fuck is happening here? I never thought I’d say this, but I miss Emery’s crazy, homicidal ass. This is not how I wanted my pregame meal to go. We sit in silence, only the sounds of the restaurant filling the air with what should be our conversation.
I can’t help but watch them. They sit a good six feet from each other, which I know isn’t that weird, but I can’t help but remember how he was with Emery. She always sat right next to him. Even when they were on the outs, she was close. Or at least, it seemed that way. Quinn couldn’t keep his hands to himself when it came to Emery, but right now, his hands don’t even seem to itch for Ava.