Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 164557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
“Come on. What will it take? Do you want me to shout it out to the whole street? Get on my knees?”
“Please don’t—”
He drops to his knees. “Blake Logan,” he declares. “Angel. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
Wow, he’s laying it on thick.
Wait. Should I be jealous here? I mean, he and I were hooking up only a couple weeks ago, and he’s not even looking my way.
Do I want him to look my way?
Are you nuts? Of course you don’t.
Common sense returns to me. Right. Just look at the guy. I don’t need this kind of drama in my life.
“Please put me out of my misery and go out with me,” Isaac is imploring.
“Dude, I don’t—”
“Help me out here!” Isaac’s arms are stretched wide as he addresses the onlookers. Man has the wingspan of a jetliner. “Citizens of Greek Row!” he shouts like a Roman gladiator. “I enlist your help!”
There’s a beat of silence, and then someone from the direction of the Sigma Nu house hollers, “Jesus fucking Christ, just go out with him and make this stop.”
“Angel,” Isaac says again.
“Oh my God. Fine,” Blake blurts out. “Fine.” She stalks over to him and tugs him by the arm, forcing him to stand.
His face lights up. “When is our date?”
“I don’t know. Just go away.”
“Friday night. I’ll text you.”
“Whatever. Just leave.”
She spins around and marches back to the house.
Grinning from ear to ear, Isaac struts to the sports car I’m very familiar with and peels away.
In the foyer, Blake seeks out Agatha’s disapproving gaze. “I’m sorry. In case you couldn’t tell, I didn’t invite him.”
Our VP, Sherise, grins at Blake. “Girl, that was Isaac Grant. You get yours, Logan.”
“No,” Agatha says tightly. “We don’t need these football behemoths sullying our house name.”
Sherise surprises everyone by talking back to our president. “Come on, Agatha. Even you have to admit, that was pretty impressive.”
“Hard disagree. Those football fuckboys are embarrassing.”
“Well, we can’t all be courted by the unsullied lacrosse guys,” Faith pipes up.
“Shut up, Faith,” Agatha growls before huffing away.
After the group disperses, I pull Blake aside, lowering my voice so nobody overhears us. “You know you don’t have to go out with him if you don’t want to, right? You can say you only agreed to shut him up. You don’t need to follow through.”
She shrugs. “Might as well. He’s at least entertaining.”
“I know. Just be careful, okay?”
“What, you’re worried I’m going to fall in love with him?” Blake sounds amused.
“He’s Isaac Grant. I’m pretty sure half this college is in love with him.”
“It’s one date, Charlotte. You don’t have to worry.”
Maybe, but I am. I’m worried this is nothing more than a thrill-of-the-chase thing on his part. I’ve heard about this guy’s sexual escapades for more than two years now. Hell, his sluttiness is what attracted me to him in the first place. Isaac doesn’t do girlfriends. And yes, there’s always the possibility that he’s met the one woman who will capture his heart and end his man-whore ways, but that usually only happens in rom-coms and romance novels. The jerk usually remains the jerk, and a fuckboy doesn’t change his stripes.
“Blake. Do you still need a ride to the dorms?” asks Dana, striding toward us. Like Blake, she also doesn’t live in the house.
“Yes. Thank you.” Blake glances at me. “Oh, before I go, I forgot to ask you. Do you want to come to the game tomorrow night? I’m going with my cousin.”
“What game?”
“Hockey.”
I make a face. “Pass.”
“Oh, come on,” she coaxes. “It’ll be fun. I promise.”
“Maybe. I’ll text you in the morning.”
Once I’m in the privacy of my bedroom again, I open the BioRoots app to check my inbox. Still empty. Although the lack of notification could’ve told me that.
I distract myself by opening the app that does have a notification, which I ignored when it came in last night because I was working late at the lab.
I will say, I’ve been getting quite a lot of mileage out of this chat. To the tune of at least two orgasms each time I talk to Lars or Bjorn. My Swedish heartthrobs. My online lovers.
But this new message changes the game.
They’re looking to take this offline.
They want to meet up.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
WILL
Save it for the ice
“DUDE, IS THIS GOING TO BE ON, LIKE, TSBN? IS YOUR FATHER-IN-LAW going to be talking about us on Hockey Kings?”
“It’s a political piece,” Ryder says, rolling his eyes at Trager. “Why would Hockey Kings talk about it?”
“I don’t get it.” Trager turns to me for guidance. “What do they want to interview us about?”
I don’t even lift my head from my stall. I’ve got my phone in hand, checking the app for the tenth time today.
“College hockey, the culture, how you got into the sport,” I answer absently. “I’m sure there’ll be some bullshit questions about what it means to be a leader and how hockey builds great men.”