Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
But the universe put us in the same place tonight, so I'm seizing the moment. I can't unbreak her heart, but I can give this giant a piece of my mind on her behalf. Maybe he'll think twice before doing the same thing to some other poor girl in the future.
My stomach twists, something curiously like jealousy shooting through me at the thought of him with some other girl. No, it's not jealousy. It can't be jealousy.
Get it together, Gabbi.
"She's not a liar, Atlas."
"I'm not saying she is, beautiful. But there's been some kind of misunderstanding here that I'd very much like to clear up, considering that I've never slept with anyone, let alone our physical therapist. I don't shit where I eat," he says bluntly.
"You're a virgin?"
"Yes," he states calmly, as if it doesn't bother him at all to admit it. "I don't know what your brother told you, but not all hockey players sleep around, Temptation."
My brother didn't tell me anything. He'd prefer if we never discussed his players or anyone with a penis, for that matter. As far as he's concerned, I'll never be old enough to date. It's annoying, really. But he's been involved in the sports world for most of my life. I know how it is.
And it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that men who look like Atlas have options. A lot of options. Women have been going crazy for him and his teammates since they moved to town a few months ago. Hollie says that over half the fans packing the arena are women. Most aren't there because they have a vested stake in hockey. They show up because they have an interest in the men playing the sport.
He could crook his finger and they'd fall at his feet. There's no freaking way he's still a virgin, and yet…and yet, there's nothing but earnest honesty peeping out of those seafoam green eyes. He genuinely expects me to believe that he's a virgin.
"Hollie wouldn't lie," I say again, refusing to believe it. She's been my best friend since our freshman year of college. We do everything together, tell each other everything. She's one of the most genuine, honest people I know.
"Call her, Gabbi."
I hesitate for a brief moment, wavering. "I'll talk to her," I say instead. "If she wants to talk to you, I'll give her your number."
"Fine." He holds his hand out.
I eye it suspiciously, which makes him smile.
"I need your phone, Temptation."
"Oh. Right." I reluctantly drag it from my pocket and then hesitate before dropping it into his hand.
He looks at the case and then quirks a brow at me, his smile growing.
"Shut up," I mumble, refusing to be ashamed of my glittery purple and teal case. It's over-the-top bright and ridiculous with rhinestones around the edges, but I never lose my dang phone anymore.
"You need a password, beautiful. Your banking app is on this thing."
I gasp and grab for it, but he holds it over my head. "Stop looking at my stuff!"
"Put a password on your phone, baby."
My stomach flip-flops. I scowl daggers at him. "Don't call me that."
"You only hate it because you think I slept with your best friend," he murmurs, his fingers flying across my phone screen. "As soon as we clear this shit up, you'll melt every time I say it, Temptation."
"No, I won't. I mean, we aren't going to be clearing this up because you're lying."
He smirks at me, holding my phone out. By the time I slip it back into my bra, he's scowling. "Here." He shrugs out of his coat, stumbling in the process. His face pales slightly. Only then do I notice the pain swimming in his eyes.
"You need to go home, Atlas. You have a concussion," I whisper, softening toward him slightly. I can't help it. Seeing people in pain makes me sad. That's precisely why I went into nursing even though my brothers are both freaking billionaires who think I should sit at home and let them take care of me all day.
"I'm going." He steps forward, slipping his jacket around my shoulders. It settles over me like a warm hug, wrapping me in his spicy scent. "Wear this before you get me banned from my favorite bar."
"Atlas," I start to protest, but he's already weaving his way through the tables, heading toward the entrance.
I watch him go, conflicted and confused and not at all sure what the heck just happened.
"I had the strangest night," Hollie says as soon as I walk through the front door of our two-bedroom apartment. She's curled up on the sectional in her PJs, a fluffy blanket thrown over her lap. An episode of Supernatural plays on the TV. She seems…happy. Happier than she has been all week, anyway.
Did she lie about Atlas? Why would she? It just doesn't make sense.