Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
How his mom and dad were addicts, how his mom had died when he was just a toddler, how his father had taken off shortly after and left him in foster care, only to die a couple years later, himself. How Annaliese, his foster mom, had saved him.
That was a past he was trying to run from, not one he wanted to broadcast.
“Please, like I’d take any man’s last name.”
He chuckled. “Turn on your damn video, Strings.”
“I can’t.”
“Why the hell not?”
“I’m in the bath.”
He fell silent for a beat, and even though his screen was dark, I swore I saw his jaw tighten a bit with that admission. It reminded me of the time when we were teens and he’d walked in on me getting out of the shower in our shared bathroom. I’d had a towel wrapped around me, but that didn’t stop me from feeling naked under his heated gaze when he dragged it from my damp hair all the way down to my toes.
Before I could analyze his pause too much, he sucked his teeth, leaning up against his headboard and flicking on a lamp so I could see him better.
“Come on. We’re getting married. Can’t your future husband get a look at the goods before purchase?”
“You’re a pig.” I huffed. “Hold on.”
I used my free hand to wash all the bubbles up around my neck, making sure there wasn’t so much as a glimpse of my goods, as Aleks had called them, before I allowed access to my video.
“There,” I said when my image flickered on. “Happy?”
“Very,” he mused, rolling his lips together in that stupid, infuriatingly sexy way he always had. “Although I’d be even happier if a strong wind would whip through and blow those bubbles away.”
“I’m about to blow you, if you don’t stop,” I warned.
And then I paled, because what the fuck did I just say?
Aleks’s eyebrows shot up, the corner of his mouth tilting. “This is turning out rather nicely for me.”
“I— I meant—”
I shook my head, too flustered to even try to figure out what I meant because seriously… what the fuck?!
I growled, glaring at the screen when Aleks chuckled at my misfortune.
“Okay, funny guy, can we be serious for one minute.”
“I’ve probably got thirty seconds max.”
“Aleks.”
“Fine, fine,” he said, wiping his hand over his face. As he did, he wiped away his smile and frowned. “Serious face on. Don’t be a drunk prick. Got it. What else?”
“Thank you.” I sighed. “Okay. No hooking up with other women while we’re… whatevering. The last thing I need is a story running that you’re cheating on me. That would just make me a bigger fool.”
“But isn’t that your genius publicist’s idea for how this all will end? Me being seen with a woman crawling all over me, painting you as the poor girl who can’t save me from my bad boy ways?”
“That’s different,” I defended. “That’ll be on my terms, and with a full PR plan behind it. We don’t need any surprises.”
“No surprises. Got it, Mom.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Speaking of which… how, exactly, are we breaking this to your parents?”
“It’s already done.”
That surprised him, judging by the tic of his brow. “Oh? And how did they take it?”
“You know them,” I said, waving my hand before I grabbed my glass of wine and took a long sip. “Mom thinks it’s ridiculous, but after hearing Isabella out, she’s fine with it. Just wants us to be careful. And wanted to know if this means she’ll see you for the holidays because she misses you more than me, as per usual.”
He smirked at that.
“And Dad…” I swirled my wine before draining the last of the glass. “Well, he’s… Dad.”
My eyes flicked to Aleks before I turned my attention to where I was setting my empty glass down.
“I can’t imagine he’s thrilled about it,” Aleks said.
“He’s on board.”
“On board, but not happy.”
I waved another mountain of bubbles up toward my collarbone. “He doesn’t like lying in any capacity, even if it’s with good intentions.”
Aleks fell silent, his nostrils flaring a bit like he knew that fact about my father all too well.
They had such a strange relationship, my father and Aleks. If it weren’t for Dad’s love of hockey, Aleks might never have made it to the States to play. I could still remember how excited he’d been the day he and Mom went to pick Aleks up from the airport, how he was already beaming with pride even before he met the kid.
My dad loved having him living with us. He treated him like his own son. He supported him mentally, emotionally, and financially. Sure, the team paid for his food and housing with us, but Dad went above and beyond to give Aleks the best — just like he would have if Aleks were his blood.