Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
She was there, just like she had been the last two weeks, recording from the sidelines. When we were dismissed, I didn’t wait for her as I shoved through the doors that led from the stadium into downtown. I walked with my headphones on, duffle bag slung over one shoulder, ignoring everyone who walked past me and recognized who I was. A few of them snapped photos, others just pointed and smiled and called out my name. The best of them left me alone altogether.
I’d no sooner made it home and started my shower before I heard a knock at my door.
Maven didn’t look scared when I swung it open, staring down at her with my jaw set. In fact, she folded her arms and lifted her chin in defiance.
“Bad day?”
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Me?” She balked, catching the door before it could shut when I let go of it. I headed back toward my bedroom, to where I had the shower going. “What is wrong with you?!”
“You posted that video when I told you, I told you not to.” I spun to face her in the hallway, the sound of the shower serving as white noise behind our screams. “But you did it anyway. Because you’re Maven King and you just do whatever you want.”
She scoffed. “In case you forgot, you agreed to this.”
“Oh, my bad. I thought when I specifically asked you not to post something, you’d listen. Didn’t you tell me that in the beginning? That if I wanted anything off the record, all I had to do was say so?”
I didn’t know why I took that exact moment to take her in, to really look at her. Her eyes were as tired as mine, and yet still, she was glowing — her skin fresh and smooth, her hair curly and held off her face by a colorful bandana tied at the crown of her head. She wore her classic silver hoop earrings, a white t-shirt that fit her perfectly, and a pair of light-washed jeans that fit even better.
Even when I was pissed at her, I wanted her.
“This is a good thing,” she said after a moment — but it felt like she was trying to defend herself more than convince me. “Every news outlet in the city has picked up the story, along with some of the national stations. You’re welcome for the great publicity.”
“Did it ever occur to you that I wasn’t supposed to be there?”
She blinked.
“Yeah. It’s against my contract. I’m not supposed to play any kind of sport or do anything that can put me or my body in danger during the season. I can’t so much as swing a golf club without risking my job.”
The color drained from her then, and I knew I had her.
“Coach McCabe filleted my ass today.”
“Okay, well…” She stammered, then stood tall again. “Well, you let the kids take pictures, which I’m sure they posted. So what’s the difference?”
“The difference is that in those photos, I wasn’t skating on the fucking rink, Maven!” I scrubbed a hand over my jaw. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. But there is a difference between me just hanging out with some kids playing hockey, as opposed to playing along with them. And Coach is pissed.”
Maven had the decency to shrink a bit at that, but then she squared her shoulders. “Yeah, well, I guess we’re even then.”
“How the hell do you figure that?”
“The picture? You kissing my hair? My girl?”
A smile curled on my lips, that anger I had before ebbing a bit. “What, not ready to admit that yet? Because let’s face it. It’s true.”
She shoved me, hard. Her hands found my chest and pressed until my back hit the wall. I let her think she had that power, that she could move my six-foot-one brick of a body with her slight one.
“This is my career,” she seethed.
“And this is mine,” I argued. “So, you’re right. I guess we are even.”
“It’s not the same. You got a slap on the wrist and some damn good PR. Do you realize how unprofessional that photo looked for me?”
“Are your bosses mad?”
Her mouth was still open, ready to fire her next argument, but it snapped close at my question.
I laughed, shaking my head, and then I pushed off the wall.
“You,” I said, moving slowly, step by step toward her as she matched my pace walking backward the other way. When her back hit the wall, I enveloped her, reveling in the little gasp she elicited when my hand found her throat. “Are such a little brat.”
I waited for her to slap me.
But she just swallowed, the movement vibrating under my palm, her eyes locked on mine.
“You’re so used to getting everything you want.” I tilted my head. “Well, almost everything.”