Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
I’m lost to Bex Bryant. So fucking done. And when I come, I know it won’t be this one time. I have to make her see that once will never be enough. For either of us.
Chapter Thirteen
BEX
I creep down the stairs in front of Preston wearing his Strickland Senators ice hockey T-shirt. His last name is on the back along with his number—eighty-five. It even smells like him. His musky, manly scent fills my nostrils, and I know I’m screwed when I take one big whiff. I’m becoming too comfortable around Preston. He makes me want things I never thought of before, which is dangerous.
Doing my best to keep quiet, I take my time going down the stairs hoping no one is in the living room. No such luck. Several pairs of eyes land on me. Preston’s teammates stare at me hard, their gazes intense. Because they know me. Realization crosses their faces, a few of them winking over my shoulder at Preston.
Ugh, what was I thinking?
“You never saw me,” I tell the room full of half-dressed hockey players. “I was never here. Got it?”
A few of them nod while two others grunt in acknowledgment.
But the hot blond with insane leg muscles begins to slow clap. What are we in an eighties movie right now?
“Way to go, Parker,” the annoying clapper says. “Coach Bryant’s daughter.”
Another guy whistles. “Banging Coach’s daughter is better than a hat trick.”
I think over his comment for a second and realize he’s not talking about a hat trick in hockey, more like Preston having sex with the three girls and want to run.
Oh, my God get me out of here.
I stop at the bottom landing and shoot Preston a warning glance.
“Bex is just a friend,” he tells them. “Don’t open your fucking mouths around Coach.”
“You got it, Cap,” a dark-haired boy says.
Preston is the captain of the men’s ice hockey team. Most of his friends either call him Cap or Prez, which doesn’t make sense to me since there’s not a ‘z’ in his name.
Preston hooks his arm around my back and whispers in my ear, “You might as well stay for breakfast now that most of the team knows you slept here.”
I cringe at the thought of anyone finding out about last night. The last thing I want is to become one of Parker’s puck bunnies. Nope, not happening.
I laugh. “I’m kind of scared of you cooking.”
He smirks. “I can’t cook. But Shannon does. She’s been here every morning for the last few days.”
I tip my nose in the air taking in the scent of what smells like bacon. “I guess I can hang out for a few more minutes.”
He cocks an eyebrow at me. “You guess?”
“Last night was a one-time thing,” I say under my breath.
“You mentioned that already. Several times last night. Every time I—”
I hold out my hand to silence him. “Don’t finish that sentence.” Turning to face him, I continue, “We can’t do this again, so don’t get any ideas.”
“You’re impossible, Bex.” He slaps my ass and pushes me further into the room. “C’mon, girl, I’m starving. Get your sweet ass in that kitchen.”
I chuckle at his comment and walk alongside him to the kitchen where we find Shannon cooking up a storm. She spins around from the stove, spatula in hand. A crowd of gargantuan hockey players are seated at the island where Preston fed me. Fucked me.
Thinking about last night and what we did on the kitchen island causes my wetness to pool between my legs. Preston was amazing. At everything. It was literally the best night of my life, one I will never forget.
“Hey, Bex,” Shannon lilts. “You have no idea how happy I am to see another woman right now.” She points the spatula in Jamie’s direction. “These guys have been giving me hell all morning.”
“No, we haven’t,” Jamie says.
“Yes, you have,” she challenges, with a smile. “There’s way too much testosterone in this kitchen right now.”
“If by giving you hell you mean admiring you from afar, then I guess I am.” Jamie licks his lips. “Turn around so I can admire you some more.”
She laughs at his stupidity, shaking off his comment, and glances at me. “See what I’ve been dealing with? Anyway, you hungry? I made enough bacon and sausage for you and Parker.”
I rub my stomach. “I can eat.”
Her face brightens. “What kind of eggs do you want?”
“Scrambled,” Preston and me say at the same time.
“Oh, look at you two,” Shannon says. “How cute? Pretty soon you’ll be finishing each other’s sentences.”
“Ah, no… we’re not together,” I spit out.
She looks at me, then Preston, and smiles. “Well, you should be.”
“Unwritten Coach rules,” Jamie says, and Preston looks as though he wants to choke him for mentioning it.
Because Preston knew that was between us. Except he didn’t keep his word.