Meet Your Match (Kings of the Ice #1) Read Online Kandi Steiner

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Kings of the Ice Series by Kandi Steiner
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Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
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My hands shook as I took the elevator up to the third floor, which was where the executive suite was. I wandered around a bit aimlessly before I finally made my way to the team gym, and when I did, I stopped, watching Vince through the window.

He was the only one in there. Hell, we had to be two of only a handful of people here at this hour. There were no concerts tonight, no events at all, and it was damn near midnight.

For a moment, I let myself watch him, taking in the gleaming muscles of his back as he pedaled on the bike. His powerful thighs worked as hard as they did on the ice, his arms flexing where they held the handlebars. He was an absolute machine — steadfast and focused.

He was dripping in sweat, watching himself in the mirror like he hated the person he saw.

Then, those eyes flicked to me.

I swallowed, using my key card and again surprised that it granted me access to join him. He didn’t slow his pace, though. Just kept his eyes on the mirror and pedaled even faster.

He wasn’t wearing headphones, and the gym was completely quiet, save for the sound of his labored breaths and the whir of the bike.

“I didn’t know the team gym was open twenty-four seven,” I said in way of greeting, folding my arms and looking around at all the equipment. I remembered spending his first day off here, watching him go through his routine with the rest of the guys before working on recovery.

Vince ignored me.

“I’m surprised to find you here, especially the night before a game,” I continued. “Figured you’d be resting.”

His watch made a buzzing noise, and he slowed his pace, sitting upright and hitting a button on the side of it. Then, he grabbed the white towel hanging over the bars and mopped the sweat off his face.

He still didn’t say a word.

I moved closer. “Look, about earlier…” I paused, because I didn’t know exactly what I wanted to say. “I… I’m sorry, okay? If I…” I laughed a little before finishing that sentence with hurt your feelings, because I was certain Vince Tanev didn’t have the capability of having his feelings hurt.

He slowed all the way to a stop, hopping off the bike and draping the white towel around his neck. He grabbed a wipe next, cleaning the bike seat.

Then, he strode right past me on the way toward the exit.

A voice in the back of my mind told me I should apologize. No, it urged me to grovel, to admit I was wrong and immature for playing whatever stupid game I had been playing at the restaurant. I shouldn’t have said what I’d said.

But I did, because I had to. I needed to. It was the only way to protect myself.

Everything was such a mess inside me, two opposing forces battling for dominance. On the one hand, I wanted to give in, to throw myself at this man’s feet. On the other, I wanted to fight.

It was that urge that won out.

“Wow,” I said, turning to face him and watch him go. “Cool. So this is how it’s going to be now? I turn you down, so you give me the silent treatment?”

He paused then, and I noted how his fingers rolled into fists at his sides, those back muscles still rippling in the low light of the gym. Only one light was on overhead, and it bathed him in menacing shadows, highlighting the cuts in his body even more.

It was psychotic, how much I loved that I’d made him stop with those words, how much I got off on knowing I had the power to make his fists clench.

“I said I’m sorry,” I repeated.

He cracked his neck.

“Well, that’s real mature, Vince,” I said, tonguing my cheek on a laugh when he didn’t respond. “I’m so glad we’re both adults. I’m so glad—”

My next words were sucked out of the room, along with all the oxygen in it, because Vince spun on his heel and charged toward me. My heart lodged in my throat, eyes wide as I took in the snarl on his lips, the furrow of his brows.

He was a man on the edge, and I’d just shoved him over.

But I wasn’t scared.

I stood there, not moving, waiting for him to wash over me like a barrel wave that would take me down to a world I’d never known. My chest heaved with my next breath, and in four long strides, he invaded every inch of my space.

Every inch of me.

He sucked in a harsh breath through his nose as his hand reached out for me, snatching my chin just like he had that day in Boston. His eyes flared when I didn’t pull away, when I leaned into the touch, pushing until I was sure his fingers would bruise me.


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