Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
He's not sitting down though, which means he’s either a stranger trying to do what I was about to do, or he's a familiar person she doesn't want to sit down.
I'm up before I can tell myself not to cross the room. There's just no way that I can let the night go by without at least getting this girl's name. If the dude standing next to her with a scowl on his face is her boyfriend, then I'll leave it be.
But if she's unattached, then I'm all about a little friendly competition.
In fact, I fucking thrive off of it.
I set my empty drink on the end of the bar. The bartender smiles at me and flashes me a silent question if I want another. I shake my head as my spot at the bar puts me in earshot to hear the blonde say, “I told you, you can't keep showing up like this.”
The concern in her voice fires up all my protective instincts.
I've heard that tone several times from my little sister, on the rare occasions we’re in town at the same time and are able to hit the bar scene together.
I hesitate, knowing I really have no fucking place interfering like I would with my little sister. But I can't deny the urge to interfere, especially when she turns away from the guy, the tense set of her body language clearly stating she’s uncomfortable.
“I'm not gonna quit showing up,” the guy says, leaning over the bar to make sure that she’s looking at his face. “Not until you listen.”
She maneuvers away again, and I've lost all fucks to give about social propriety. She clearly doesn't want this fucker in her face. And if she doesn’t want me to butt in, then I’ll apologize and walk away.
“Not until you realize you're making a mistake—”
“Babe, I'm sorry I'm late,” I cut the guy off, boldly sliding my arm around her shoulders and looking down at her.
Fuck me, she has the most beautiful blue-gray eyes I've ever seen, out here looking like the sky after an afternoon rainstorm.
She doesn't immediately jerk out of my touch. Instead, she looks up at me and smiles the most breathtaking smile I've ever seen.
“It's okay,” she says effortlessly. “You can make it up to me later.”
Well if that doesn't make heat slice through my veins then I don't know what will.
I grin down at her, cocking a brow. “Which way will it be this time?” I ask.
“Ice cream in bed or a Bridgerton marathon between orgasms?”
Her lips part at my second suggestion, a delightful little flush crossing her cheeks before she purses her full lips.
“This is your new boyfriend?” the guy cuts in between our little back and forth. “A jock fuckboy?”
“You know I can't resist Bridgerton,” the girl says, completely ignoring the other guy and shocking the hell out of me by choosing that scenario. I’m already more than willing to carry through with that offer. She just has to say the word.
“You've got to be kidding me,” the guy grumbles. He smacks the bar, and the move makes her flinch.
I turn my gaze on the guy, fastening him with a glare that sizes him up within two seconds.
He's not a total loser, but he rides that edge for sure. At first glance, he looks like a normal, just-out-of-college bro, likely about to take a job at his daddy's business, his hair clean-cut, his clothes preppy.
“I'm sorry, my guy,” I say, drawing on every ounce of bravado I have, and I've got a shit-ton, really. “I completely forgot you were there. Did you need something? Drink money? Need me to call you a Lyft?”
“Fuck you. We were in the middle of a conversation—”
The sheer hostility in his voice has me stepping in front of the girl, making it so I'm the only thing he sees. And he has to look up to meet my eyes.
My freshly acquired teammates must notice the move because I hear several of them come stand behind me without a second thought.
Gotta fucking love hockey teams. We've only known each other for about thirty minutes, but they've already got my back. That shows promise for what we'll do this season, but I can't really focus on that now with douchebag puffing his chest every five seconds.
“I'm gonna let that one slide because I realize losing someone as stunning as her has to sting. But you have five seconds to either back the fuck up or keep standing here and have the worst night of your life.”
The guy glares up at me, then glances behind me at whoever has come to have my back. He scoffs and shakes his head, grabbing his drink off the bar and stomping to the other side of it, then up the stairs to where the second level is.