Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
I pushed past him, fire still in my blood over the entire situation. He huffed a laugh, closing the door behind him.
“Thought you were going out with Maxim tonight,” he said, leaning against the door, his eyes flickering with amusement and intrigue and…want.
I scrunched my brow, holding my arms out horizontally to indicate the room in which I now stood. “How about that drink?”
9
Sterling
London walked into my room with her head held high and threw her purse on my dresser. Tension wafted off the woman in waves. If I hadn’t known better, I would have called it jealousy.
I shut the door and leaned back against it, enjoying the sight of her bent over to root through the mini fridge. That ass deserved to have songs written about it, and it was currently covered by a pencil skirt that screamed sexy librarian. Add her buttoned-up blouse and twisted-up hair, and she was a walking, talking fantasy.
“Apple juice. Orange juice,” she muttered, pushing bottles around. “Water.” Her head popped up, and she glared in my direction. “Where is this drink you offered?”
“You think I drink alcohol during the actual season? That’s cute.” The corner of my mouth lifted into a smirk.
Her mouth opened and shut a few times, but eventually, she shook her head and took an apple juice out of the fridge. “I don’t know how you’re just…calm about all that?”
I folded my arms over my chest. “Calm about what? The fact that I had to spend a half-hour posing for pictures next to an asshole I happen to share some genes with, or the women at my door who were hoping to fuck me?”
She considered her answer for a few seconds as she opened the bottle of juice. “Yes. All of it.”
“I tolerate Maxim because you asked me to. It’s as plain and simple as that.” My stomach churned every fucking minute of it, but I did it.
“Is it really that hard?” She slumped back, perching on the edge of the desk. “I’m going to break my own rule here for a second, but he’s been Caspian’s best friend for two years. He’s not that bad of a guy.”
“Not that bad of a guy,” I repeated slowly, reminding myself that our family dynamic wasn’t exactly something that most people understood, mostly because we didn’t have a family.
“He’s not! Okay, maybe he’s arrogant and a little aloof until you know him”—she cocked her head to the side— “and to be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him with the same woman twice, but you might actually like him if you got to know him.”
I scoffed. “Not happening.”
“Jansen…” She sighed like I was disappointing her or some shit.
“London, you don’t know the first fucking thing about my family, which, by the way, consists of my mom, grandparents, and me.” My forehead puckered. “And fine, Greg, my stepfather, whom my mom married my junior year in college. But that’s it. Maxim isn’t my family, I don’t care how much you like him.”
“He’s your brother!”
“No, he’s not.” I moved forward, raking my hands over my hair. “And if you had been there when I had to call my mom and tell her that not only was he on my team, but I was being put with him for promotional purposes, you might have another view of this subject.” I’d never forget the way her breath had stuttered, and she’d gone silent. “That being said, choosing to get your hackles up about the women outside my door is a much safer fight to pick if you’re feeling feisty over there, London.”
“Feisty?” She threw back the apple juice like it was a beer and clunked it down on the desk beside her. “I’m not trying to pick a fight.”
“Yes, you are.” I leaned against the dresser and gripped the edges, keeping a safe distance away from her. It had been almost two weeks since our little theater date, and this was the first time she’d approached me. The first time she’d talked to me when it wasn’t in a professional capacity, and while I liked to think I was a pretty confident guy, her little hot and cold routine was a mindfuck. “You’ve been around professional hockey enough to know that there are willing women in every arena, every hotel, and every hallway, so why is the fact that you managed to run off the two at my door getting you all prickly?”
“Run off? Wait, were you interested in them?” She sputtered, her eyes sharpening like little daggers as her spine went stiff.
“If I had been, would that have been a problem for you?” I wasn’t. I hadn’t so much as breathed in the direction of another woman from the moment I’d seen her in the elevator. She’d owned me from that moment on.
“I…I….” Color flushed from her neck up to her cheeks, and her gaze darted between my eyes and my lips. She wanted me.