Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Okay, well, now I feel like a shit friend. I step forward, cupping the side of his face.
“What are you doing?” He tries to pull out of my grip, but I hold firm.
“Your first kiss with someone new should be a memorable and life-affirming one, and I couldn’t pull my best work out there. Maybe getting it out of the way will settle your nerves.”
Aleks bites his bottom lip. “And you’re okay with that?”
“It’s only a kiss, and if it’s anything like the one out on the ice, it’ll be like kissing my brother. Actually, I’m going to challenge my dick to try to get hard for you.”
Aleks grabs my jersey and twists it in his fists. “Just kiss me and get it over with, you jackass.”
“Ooh, name-calling helps.” It doesn’t. Everything south of the border is dead.
“Shut up.” Aleks cuts off another retort with his lips on mine, and while it’s … fine, and nice, and I give him my best work, it really is like kissing my brother.
He’s the one to break it, and as he does, he whispers a very faint “Thank you,” but it’s drowned out by the loud, booming voice at the door to the locker room.
“What the fuck is happening in here?”
Shit. Lane’s found me.
THIRTEEN
LANE
“Can I talk yet?” Oskar asks from the passenger seat.
“No.”
“But—”
“Shh.”
“Lane, I—”
“Not yet.” My hands clench the steering wheel so tight they’re cramping. I want to wait until I get him home before I unleash over all the sheer dumbassery that he’s constantly getting himself into.
Aleksander Emerson? Can’t Oskar keep it in his pants for one fucking afternoon?
Not only is Emerson Oskar’s teammate, but he’s about to go through a very public divorce with his high school sweetheart. They’ve been media darlings for years, and this … no. This I absolutely cannot let Oskar get involved in. Aleks is already being pinned by the media for indiscretions that are complete bullshit, but even with Rebecca denying that’s the reason for the split, no one will believe it.
Especially not if Oskar Voyjik’s name gets mixed up in it.
My head is pounding. Not only am I going to have to do some hard-core damage control, every time I picture Oskar’s mouth on Aleks’s, this hot, harsh feeling churns my gut.
“Come on, Lane—”
“I said no, Oskar. You do understand what that word means, don’t you?” My voice is strained as I try to stop myself from raging at him. This is all on me. I’m the one who let him go out. I’m the one who gave him space. And, yeah, he didn’t go and screw everything up, but he was well on his way to doing it.
“What’s the difference between now and when we’re back?”
“When we’re back,” I grit out through my teeth, “I don’t have the possibility of running us off the road.”
“Wow, you are mad.”
My jaw clenches to keep from responding. I know what he’s doing. He’s trying to provoke me so we get this over and done with on his terms, but that’s not happening. I’m so angry and goddamn jealous I can’t even see straight.
And that’s the kicker, isn’t it?
I should be more pissed that Oskar is corrupting a teammate and willingly walking into another scandal, but all I can concentrate on is how desperately I want to replace Oskar’s memory of that kiss with one of my own.
My approach of playing it cool, of teasing and getting under his skin, has backfired because I don’t think I’ve ever wanted a man as much as I want Oskar Voyjik.
“Lane, let me—” His voice is softer this time, which only pisses me off more.
“Save it.”
We’re not doing the vulnerability thing again. There’s no way in hell I’m going to show him that it works on me, speaks to a side of me I try to keep hidden behind a confident attitude and a cool façade. Oskar might be willing to let pieces of himself out, but I’m not going to reciprocate.
Not after … that.
My teeth clench so hard my jaw aches as much as my hands.
It’s almost a relief to pull into his driveway, except where I’d been hoping to calm down on the drive, to approach this professionally, that’s gone completely out the window.
I throw open my door, climb out of the car, and storm inside.
Only a few hours ago, I’d made a choice that could have lost me my career, but I have another chance to hold on to it, and I’m not going to let Oskar get one over on me again. He’s proven how little he respects my trust—I’m not fucking up my entire career for someone like that.
A minute later, Oskar strolls inside, and the carefree vibes rolling off him only fan the flames of my anger.
“What …” I begin, trying and failing to control my tone, “did you think you were doing?”