Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
I roll the opposite way, intent on grabbing my clothes from the floor, but my wrist is ensnared. I glance over my shoulder at him.
Drake is still on his back wearing a lazy smile, his other hand tucked behind his head. “Where are you going?”
I cock an eyebrow at him. “You know where I’m going.”
“To work,” he surmises with a knowing smirk. “It’s what you were doing when I got here.”
“And what I’ll be doing when you leave.”
“I’m not ready to leave,” he says, and tugs me back across the bed. He pulls me right into his body and forces me to lie beside him. “Seriously… aren’t you exhausted?”
“Yeah, from you,” I say, taking these few blissful moments to rest my head on his chest while my fingers play with the thin line of happy-trail hair on his lower abdomen.
“If you expect me to feel bad about wearing you out, not going to happen. I’m talking about work, though. Isn’t that exhausting?”
I shrug, running my palm up his stomach and watching as his abs ripple and contract under my touch. I’m not willing to discuss my work habits because there’s nothing to be done about it. I can’t not do my work.
“You know,” I tease, lifting my head to look at him, “if I cut out my time with you, I’d have more time to work.”
His hand is in my hair, gripping hard, and his eyes flash as he pulls me to his mouth. “Wrong answer,” he murmurs against my lips before kissing me.
Of course, he robs me of my breath, so I’m dizzy when he finally releases, but I’m surprised to see a mixture of warmth and worry in his eyes. “Explain it to me. Why are you burning the candle at both ends every single night we’re together? Do you ever get a break? A vacation? A lazy morning?”
“Never,” I say.
He frowns. “Why?”
I consider his question. I have significant resources at my disposal. I can delegate duties to others. I could give up running the Titans and go back to only running Norcross Holdings, although I’d still work long hours.
I give him the best answer I can. “It’s all I know. It’s who I am. I guess my identity is so tied up with my work and success, I don’t know how not to do it. It’s why I don’t have any close friends, I don’t go out, and I don’t take vacations.”
“It’s why you don’t have a boyfriend, only a fuck buddy,” he points out.
“Exactly.” I lean forward with the intent to kiss him.
His fist still threaded deep in my hair stops me. “Sounds lonely.”
I frown. “Do I look lonely to you?”
“I don’t know,” Drake admits, softening his hold. “I don’t know what lonely looks like.”
I raise up on my elbow, and his hand drops to stroke my back. This conversation is making me uncomfortable with the spotlight on me. “How are you feeling being back in the league? Did you make the right decision?”
“Yeah,” he says. “Not sure the bitterness toward certain people will ever go away. Pretty much the entire management of the Wolves, who chose to believe Crystal. But I’m seeing it wasn’t the entire league that betrayed me. This was a good move, and I suppose I really should thank you for the chance.”
“You’re very welcome. And thank you for accepting my offer. You’ve made our team so much stronger.”
“You’ve put together something really amazing, both with the guys you brought on last season and the new acquisitions this year.”
I smile, shaking my head. “That wasn’t me. That was all Callum. So you think we’re strong? I’m a bit out of my element and still learning.”
Drake shifts, moves up a bit on the pillow, and leans on his elbow to face me. “Yeah… the first line is solid as a rock. With Coen back at center, and Stone and Boone as wingers, Nolan and Kirill on defense, it’s going to be one of the best lines in the league.”
“And our second and third lines?”
“Not sure about Nicholson at left wing on the second line. He reminds me a lot of Stenlund… has moments of brilliance and moments of stupidity. He’s not consistent. But past that, the second line is solid. Adding Foster Macinnis at center has helped. He’s a solid veteran player, and he’ll balance out the younger guys on that line.”
“Wow… you’re more than just a pretty goaltender,” I tease. “You actually know your stuff.”
He smirks, sliding an arm over my waist and pulling me closer. “You’re more than just a pretty owner. You’re a powerhouse.”
The compliment stirs something inside me that makes me want to cry. It means a lot that Drake respects my confidence and accomplishments. So many men can’t handle it. It always seemed to be a contest with Clay.