Well and Truly Pucked (My Hockey Romance #4) Read Online Lauren Blakely

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Funny, Sports Tags Authors: Series: My Hockey Romance Series by Lauren Blakely
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Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
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At least, I hope.

Which is a stupid hope.

Dismissing it, I laser in on balance.

I’m just here for the balance. That edge.

That is all.

An hour later I roll up my mat, lingering behind as Briar says goodbye to other students. When everyone’s gone, I head over. It’d be weird not to, I reckon. “And how is Frances Furbottom?”

“Very, very furry still. And, Rhys,” she says, my name sounding like it tastes good on her lips, “thank you again for the gift. It was really incredible. I was going to send you guys a thank you this afternoon. I was just waiting for Ledger to send me your numbers.”

Shit. I don’t want her to think I’m in class today because I’m shilling for a thanks. “No worries. I’m just here to work on my balance,” I say and wow, that doesn’t sound like I’m trying to cover up a massive fucking crush. I try to inject some chill in my voice. “Anyway, I’m glad you got them.”

Last night after she dropped us off, we didn’t go back to check out Steven’s building after all. We grabbed a beer and decided we couldn’t just let a woman who’d been kicked out have to haul her clothes around in rubbish bags. We ordered some luggage online and since Hollis heard that she was staying with his cousin, we arranged for our group gift to arrive there this morning.

“I was just going to borrow some suitcases from Aubrey, but now I have my own. In pink and purple,” Briar says, and she sounds delighted to have the luggage.

“We had a feeling you liked the colors,” I say.

“Well, you felt right.” She doesn’t seem to realize the double entendre at first, then she does, dipping her face. “I mean…”

“Hopefully it feels good. You shouldn’t hesitate to feel up luggage.”

“Then I’ll have my hands all over it later.”

I might regret this later. I probably will. But I say it anyway. “Lucky luggage.”

Her smile lingers, and for a long beat, the air sparks hotter between us, charged with this electricity. “And it’ll go to good use. I’m going to Lucky Falls later today.”

“Oh, really?” That’s where the festival is. But it doesn’t start for a week.

“I got into my rental early—break out the champagne—so at least I’ve got a place for a couple weeks. Which also gives me time to find a place in the city.”

“You won’t be teaching then? For the next week?” Ah fuck. I hope that doesn’t sound like I’ll be a sad sack, kicking a can around the fitness studio forlornly.

“I will. I’ll drive back and forth from Lucky Falls each day.”

That’s an hour each way. I hate her ex even more than I did last night for this massive inconvenience. “We’ll have to get you a gift of petrol next time,” I say.

“You guys are already too good to me. Do you mind giving me Hollis’s and Gavin’s numbers?”

“No problem,” I say, and we quickly exchange all the digits.

Then she reaches out and squeezes my bicep. “Thanks again for last night.”

She holds my arm for a bit longer than I’d expect, which is fine by me. For a second, it looks like she’s going to say something else. Maybe even lean in and give me a thank you kiss on the cheek.

But that’s wishful thinking. Of course she doesn’t do that. I’ve been burned by romance in the last year or so, but she was burned by it just last night.

Best if I keep this obsession exactly where it should stay—in a tiny purple and pink suitcase in the corner of my mind. Fact is, I should avoid her in Wine Country next week too.

It’s a big festival. I probably won’t even see her. “I hope you have a good time at the festival,” she says.

“You too. I’ll get you that champagne when you snag a new place.”

“Champagne’s my favorite,” she says, and I file that away for safekeeping.

When I leave, my agent’s name and number flashes across the phone and I tense.

This could be the news I’ve been dreading.

8

SPECIAL PROTECTION

Briar

I didn’t plan to send them a photo, but Donut is making it impossible not to. My tiny rust-colored Dachshund has burrowed into my clothes in the pink suitcase in Aubrey’s guest room, wiggled her way through leggings and bras, and is stretched out across nearly the whole length of the luggage, her little head poking out of a lavender sports bra, her tail twined around a white hoodie. I add a sticker saying thank you then hit send on a group message.

Briar: Apparently, it’s a dog case too. And it’s Donut approved.

Hollis: She’s making sure she’s never left behind.

Briar: Her MO. Also, thank you. That was unexpected and awesome. Also fortuitous since I’m heading up to Lucky Falls today with Donut, and Frances Furbottom will stay with her grandad. I got into my rental early, in case Rhys didn’t mention it.


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