This Is Crazy Read online Natasha Madison (This Is #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: This Is Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
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“I bought a couple of suits,” I say to her. I get the suits out and see a whole bag of stuff under it. I take the bag out and find five pairs of jeans, really nice jeans, two sweaters, and a couple of shirts. There is a white envelope with my name on it.

Evan

It was great working with you. I saw these and knew you would look good in them.

Zara.

I smile, knowing she was thinking about me.

“You have these same suit hanging in your closet,” Candace says, “and this sweater.” She laughs. “I also bought you these jeans at Christmas.”

I grab the stuff and take it to my room. Grabbing my phone, I send her a text.

Evan: Sweet Zara, nothing better than getting a note that you’re thinking of me.

I press send and bring my phone with me to the kitchen. “She’s shopping for you now?”

“What’s the problem exactly?” I finally ask her. “Like what has she ever done to you?”

“What has she done to me? That fucking tweet flooded my phone. I’ve heard she’s immature and fake.”

“By who?” I ask her

“A couple of the wives who have met her.” She mentions the wives of the players. They all get together to go over fundraising ideas, and Candace has always been in the clique.

“Well, I’ve met her, and she isn’t immature, and she is nothing but real,” I tell her, and she rolls her eyes.

“I am not going to fight with you about a woman who is going to be a distant memory in four months,” she says and sits down. “Now let’s get to work. I have a meeting in two hours.”

I let it slide for now, but I know we will have this conversation again in the near future. For the next two hours, we go over all the things she wants me to do. I make a list of things I will do and things I won’t do.

“The NHL awards are in late June,” she starts saying. “I’m going to book the rooms this week. Mom and Dad said they are flying in and so is Chloe.”

“Cool,” I tell her, and she starts packing up her things.

“Don’t forget I leave on Thursday, and I’m back the week after,” she says. “I will check your account in the morning and at night. Can you lay off the girl shit, please?”

“I invited her to casino night,” I tell her, and she stops packing her stuff.

“You did not,” she hisses. “Are you crazy?”

“Why?” I ask her. “It’s a fundraiser. Besides, she didn’t say she would.”

“Well, here’s hoping that she doesn’t.” She fake smiles. “If you want to have sex, call Tina or even Karina. She’s in town and would love to have dinner with you.”

I push my chair away from the table, and it scratches the floor. “Enough, Cand.”

She shakes her head. “Use your brain, Evan,” she says and storms out of the house. I look up and close my eyes, counting to ten, but it doesn’t seem to help. I’m pissed that she is being like this, and I have no idea what to do about it. When the phone rings, I don’t even look to see who it is.

“What?” I snap.

“Okay.” I hear her voice, and I’m suddenly calm. “How about you call me back after …” she says. “Or not. That is good also,” she mumbles and then hangs up.

I call her right back, and she answers. “Yes,” she says, and I have to laugh.

“I’m sorry. I was just …” I take a deep breath. “I didn’t look to see who was calling me.”

“Do you not have caller ID?” she asks me, and I hear a car door slamming.

“Where are you?” I ask her, and then I hear cars honking in the distance.

“I just got to my hotel,” she tells me. “I was calling to one, thank you for the flowers again. And two, to tell you that if you want to return any of the items, you can do so just using my name. It’s in the system.”

“You didn’t have to send me all that stuff,” I tell her and go to sit on the couch. “But …”

“But?” she says. “I may lose you. I’m stepping into the elevator,” she says. I hear a ding, and sure enough, the call drops.

I wait by the phone for her to call me back, and she does. “Sorry,” she says, out of breath, and I press the FaceTime button and hear the phone ring. “Are you trying to FaceTime me?”

“Yeah,” I say, and then I look at my phone and see the little circle go around, and then I finally see her. She’s looking down at the phone with one side of her hair tucked behind her ear. She isn’t wearing any makeup, or if she is, I can’t even tell. Her smile fills the screen. “Hi,” she says softly.


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