Good Pucking Luck (The Jilted Exes Club #1) Read Online Riley Hart

Categories Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: The Jilted Exes Club Series by Riley Hart
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Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
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What the hell have I just done?

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Rylan

Hayes and I just agreed to exclusively sleep with each other for the next six months, and you’d think that would feel weird to me, but it really doesn’t.

Instead, I just get up to flip the chicken, trying to ignore the giddy tingle in my gut. “So…your parents started the Rockwell hotels, and now you’re part of the business?” If we’re going to do this friendship thing too, we should get to know each other. Plus, I can’t imagine having steady sex with someone I know nothing about.

“Yeah, they met in high school. Both overachievers, but also the kind of people everyone liked. They started dating, went to college together. I have no idea what made them think hotel, but whatever it was, it worked.”

He gets up and walks across the deck, looking around. Something about the way he said his parents were the type of people everyone liked sounds very much like he doesn’t think he is. And okay, maybe I can see a little bit why he would think that because he’s adorably prickly, but it also makes me sad…and makes me hate The Prick even more.

“The first Rockwell was in New York, right? Is that where you’re from?”

“Yes and no. The first Rockwell was there, and it’s where I was born, but we traveled a lot. My parents love their fast-paced lifestyle and living like they didn’t have a kid, but they also, oddly, loved me a lot too. They weren’t the type of parents who would leave me at home with nannies, so I went with them everywhere.”

“It’s not strange for your parents to love you, cutie.”

He waves me off. “That’s not what I mean. Not really. Just that a lot of the people in their circles did leave their kids at home. New York is home base, though.”

“I bet it was nice when you went back and could spend time with your friends.”

“Oh, I didn’t have friends. What about you? Where did you grow up?” he asks as if he didn’t just drop a heartbreaking bombshell.

“What do you mean you didn’t have friends?”

He turns to face me, nose wrinkled up cutely. “It wasn’t a big deal. I knew people, of course, but I was…different. I wasn’t like most of the kids I was around. We spent time together because our parents knew each other, and we lived in the same neighborhoods and went to the same events, but I can’t imagine they liked me very much.” His words are spoken so matter-of-factly, like it’s something he doesn’t care about or has made peace with a long time ago, but for me, it makes my heart soften.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Don’t do that, Rylan. You didn’t know them, and those are the facts, and that’s okay.” He pulls up my sweats that are slung low on his hips. “I should probably go.”

“Nope. You can’t go. You’re having dinner with me. It’s part of our arrangement.”

“I don’t remember shaking on that.”

“It was in the fine print.”

“We have a verbal contract.”

“I mumbled it.”

Hayes grins, which makes me feel like I just scored a winning goal in a big game.

“Fine. Whatever. I’m hungry.”

“Good. Is rice okay with it? I do a lot of meal prepping, and I have rice and veggies in the fridge.”

“I don’t trust people who meal prep.” I snort out a laugh, and he continues, “That’s fine.”

“Is working at the Rockwell what you wanted to do? Follow in your parents’ footsteps with the hotels?” I pull the chicken off the grill, and he follows me inside, where I start to warm up the rest of the food.

“I don’t really know if there was ever something I really wanted to do. I’ve just always known what I was going to do. Which is fine by me. I’m good at it, and I enjoy it. What about you? Did you always want to be a hockey player?”

“I was seven.” I smile, leaning against the counter and looking at him. “My mom had this part-time job for a while at an ice rink. I knew hockey was a thing, of course, but I didn’t know anything about it. I just imagined ice-skating going on there. There was an hour overlap between when my dad had to leave for work and when my mom got off, so he took me to the rink. I was supposed to be coloring, keeping quiet and out of the way while Mom worked her last hour. There was a hockey practice going on. The kids were older than me, teenagers or something, and I was enthralled. I couldn’t look away. I thought they were fucking magicians—seeing how fast they skated, the way they handled the puck, watching the goalie use his body to block shots. I’d never even been on a pair of ice skates before.”


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