Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
“And just not fucking, drinking, and gambling isn’t going to help?”
“It’s been six months,” she reminds me. “The only thing that’s changed is they’ve stopped calling you Whore-son.”
The play on my name would be funny if it didn’t hit me in my soft spot. This isn’t the first time I’ve been called Whore-son, but when I was little, it was “That Whore’s Son.” Not wanting to open that can of worms, I nod. “I don’t know, El. I’ve never seen myself with a family.”
She bites the inside of her cheek. “Ultimately, it’s up to you. I’m just here to support and suggest.” She shuts the folder. “But I can tell you that no team has you on their radar. I have met with Shelli Adler-Brooks. She doesn’t want someone on her team who will sleep with her staff or their loved ones.”
“I haven’t slept with any staff or found myself in a compromising situation with a teammate’s loved one in over a year. I learned my lesson, and, really, she came on to me,” I offer. But I don’t think El believes me. Hell, I don’t even believe myself. I was drunk, which is why I haven’t touched a drink since I found myself in the closet with the wife of one of my teammates at his house. Not only did I get my ass whooped, but no one spoke to me until the start of this season.
“It doesn’t matter. Your image is shit, and unless you’re wanting to do something drastic, I don’t think you’ll make it to the NHL.” As her words sink in, she gets up. “I believe in you—believe in yourself. Go save some cats, play with some kids, and feed the homeless. While you do all that, find a woman dumb enough to be your wife.”
I hold her gaze. “Do we know where these dumb women are?”
She laughs. “Not at all. Try eBay.”
“Or I could pay you.”
She shakes her head. “There isn’t no amount of money you could pay me to hitch my wagon to yours, but good try.”
She flashes me a wide grin and then heads out without a backward glance. I lean on my hands, cupping my cheeks with my palms as I look around the coffeehouse that I’ve owned since my dad died. There are plenty of women here, but I know they wouldn’t be down for this little plan. Who would? Hell, I don’t even want to be down for this.
I don’t want a girlfriend. Or a wife. Or even a dog or cat. And a kid? Ha. That’s not happening.
But I want the NHL.
Why I can’t have one without the other is annoying as fuck, but I can’t ignore El’s suggestion. She’s successful for a reason, and she’s right; my talent isn’t enough. My image has to be tip-top, which means I need a wife.
Where exactly does a reformed manwhore find a wife?
CHAPTER 2
Eliza
“It took me over an hour and a half to get here.”
I look across the table at my date, Chad Michael, and force myself to smile. “You’ve said that a few times now.”
He leans back in his seat, the chair protesting his weight. He is a little taller than my 5’2” self, with wide shoulders and a wee bit more overweight than his picture suggested. He is very handsome, charismatic, and is a private jet coordinator for the Knoxville airport. I met him on a dating app, and we’ve been chatting for two weeks. When he suggested meeting up, I was all for it. I figured, the dating pool in Blitz is a huge dumpster fire of filth, so why not venture out of town. Nothing is truly holding me here, and if the right guy came along, I wouldn’t feel bad leaving.
Yes, my sisters live here—minus my middle sister, Austen, who lives in Nashville—but we’re all doing our own thing. Really, we just want one another to be happy. So if I can find someone who does that, I will leave this town. But one thing is for sure, Chad Michael won’t be the one I leave for. I only like him when it’s through a phone, apparently.
In person, he is less than desirable.
“I just want you to know it was a trek.”
I force myself not to roll my eyes before meeting his brown ones. “You’re starting to make me feel like the drive wasn’t worth it.”
He shrugs, a smile playing on his lips. “I didn’t think we’d be here this long.”
My brows knit together. “Do you not like it here?” I ask since this is my favorite restaurant in town. Yeah, it’s a small diner that slings hash and eggs in the mornings, but all the food is divine! “This is my go-to place.”
“It’s not that. The food is great, the company even better,” he says before leaning on the table that separates us. Thank God. “I just thought we’d be back at your place by now.”