Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 80930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
"We leave tomorrow at ten," the coach says. "I know we have a big shindig tonight, but you can sleep on the plane."
I get up and throw my shirt in the big basket in the middle of the room. "You did get laid," Miller says, looking at me. I’m shocked he knows, but then I see him pointing at my chest. I look down to see the marks she left on me. I smirk and just shrug.
"You dog," Mika says. "Was it the blonde at the party?" he asks, and I just look over at him.
"What party?" He laughs, taking off his skates.
"Your divorce party. There were these two blondes." He shakes his head, and I look at him with my mouth open.
"There were blondes at my party?" I look at him and then over at Manning, who just shrugs.
"They came with Wilson," Mika says, and Wilson looks up from his side of the bench.
"They also left with me." He winks. "Both of them."
"So who was it?" Mika asks, and I shake my head and untie my skates, not even going to answer him. I get in the shower and call Erika on the way home, and she sends me straight to voice mail.
Chapter 18
Erika
My phone rings again, and I look down to see it’s Cooper and send it straight to voice mail as my stomach crunches tight. I’ve avoided him all day, and I have no idea what to do or who to talk to about it. All I can hear is his voice in my head, saying Not a chance in fucking hell. Over and over again.
The last two days play in repeat over and over in my head all fucking day long, annoying me to the end of the earth. I was angry for remembering every fucking touch, every fucking kiss, every fucking minute. I thought I needed to get away from him to think, except every single time I started to think about it, it was things that I shouldn’t be thinking about. I should be thinking about our friendship. I should be thinking about when I realized he was my best friend. When I met him in New York, and he was not sure he wanted to play for his father. How we sat down and spoke openly, and how from that meeting on, we talked every single day, and if we didn’t speak, we would text. The most we’ve ever gone without speaking was four days. I should be thinking about the fact that we work together. I work for him, and so many fucking lines have been crossed it’s not even funny.
I put my head in my hands when Shauna comes in with a black bag in her hand. "Okay, I’m off," she says, and I look over at her and then down at my watch to see that it’s just past six o’clock. "Here is your outfit for tonight, and I have a car scheduled for you. All you have to do is text me when you’re ready, and I’ll send him over."
"I can do all that," I say, getting up and walking to grab the bag from her. When this event was planned out months ago, I decided to leave from the office instead of going home and then coming back to the city. But when we planned this, I didn’t know I would have had sex with Cooper the morning of. "Just text me his number." She looks at me and smiles. "Have a great night. Take pictures."
"Thanks, you, too," she replies, turning and walking back out of my office. I tried to come up with an excuse the minute Shauna reminded me about the dinner tonight, but no matter what excuses I came up with in my head, it wasn’t good enough. I had clients on the team I needed to show up for, and I knew it. There were no two ways about it. I had to be there tonight.
I was mentally a mess, and I was pissed that the only person I could talk to about this was also the same person I was avoiding. He has been my best friend for the last eight years at least, and I’m scared I’ve ruined it because we spent the night having sex. I mean the whole night and the day after and this morning, but it’s the same thing. So what if it was the best sex of my life. So what that I was myself with him. So what if just thinking about him again makes my stomach flip and my heart speed up. So what if my hands are clammy, and all I can see when I close my eyes are his eyes. It means nothing.
"Hey," Becca says, sticking her head into the office. "I’m going to get ready, and we can head out in about thirty minutes." I think about seeing if I could maybe dip out for the night.