Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
After closing my laptop, I take a paperback out of my bag and open it. Meeting Dane’s gaze across the room, I scratch my cheek with my middle finger, the same move he used on Arnold the day we met.
A smile tugs on his lips as he looks away.
He’s mostly gotten my nice, diplomatic side up until now. It’s time for Dane to meet unfiltered, zero-fucks-given Josie.
“And she heats up leftover fish and broccoli in the office microwave at least once a week, which is actually worse than when she opens a can of sardines at her desk. Who does that?”
Lucas nods and gives me a sympathetic look. We’ve been at a bar for nearly an hour with other Mammoths players. Chicago won the game 4–1, and even though tomorrow morning we head out early for another road trip, lots of guys are drinking away their sorrows over the loss.
I’m three margaritas in, complaining to Lucas about Monica while watching Dane out of the corner of my eye and daring him to misbehave. He’s at the table next to mine with three teammates, several women swarming around them like flies on shit.
“I swear Dalton saves his shits for the team plane,” Lucas says. “He could go at his hotel, but he likes to take a big shit as soon as we get on the plane and then we all have to smell it for the whole flight.”
“Inconsiderate,” I say, shaking my head and sipping my drink. “Just like Monica. I spilled soup on my shirt at work once and she was like, ‘Oh, I’d let you borrow one I have in my office, but it’s too small for you.’ Like, why say that? Just say nothing.”
One of the women at Dane’s table cozies up to his side, trying to look casual as her body molds against his. He’s been nursing his drinks, only on his second beer of the night.
“Do you ever get time off?” Lucas asks me. “Days when you don’t have to keep track of Dane?”
“No.”
“Can you get someone to cover for you for an evening sometime?”
I scoff. “I’d love to, but there’s no one.”
“I could talk to him. See if he’d agree to stay in for an evening.”
Lucas doesn’t know Dane very well. He didn’t listen to his coach and team owner telling him to behave. Why would he listen to a teammate?
“Good luck with that,” I say. “He lies.”
“Well, how can I get you alone?” Lucas asks.
He leans in so close I can smell his soap and cologne. My head is swimming from the alcohol, but even with my judgment impaired, I know I can’t get involved with one of Dane’s teammates. I have to keep my focus on this assignment because I need that promotion. I have student loans to pay off, and somehow, I have to buy another car.
Dane is laughing, tipping his bottle of beer to his lips as he glances over at us. His happy expression fades, turning serious.
He sets the beer down and says something to the woman superglued to him. She moves away and he gets up, walking toward the bar’s front door.
“I have to go,” I tell Lucas, grabbing my bag and following Dane.
“Dane,” I call as he walks. “Dane, stop!”
He turns to face me, his gaze dark and angry. “What? You need a condom? Looks like you and Lucas are about to fuck right here in front of everyone.”
I recoil, taken aback by his hostility.
“What are you talking about? We never even touched, and that blond just had to peel her body off yours so you could get up.”
“I didn’t encourage her.”
“And I didn’t encourage Lucas. I need to pay for my drinks before we go.”
“I already paid for them.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
He exhales through his nose. “You’re not a puck bunny, Josie. Don’t let Lucas make you into one.”
I give him a confused look. “Dane, I was just talking to him. A shitty work thing happened today and I was talking to him about that.”
“Why can’t you talk to me about it?”
I laugh, getting so lightheaded I reach for a nearby table to steady myself. “You mean besides the fact that you don’t care?”
He puts an arm around my waist, the heat of his solid body against mine making me gasp.
“Let’s get you to the car,” he says.
“I’m fine.”
“Stop arguing and let me get you to the car.”
“Stop helping and let me argue,” I say, knowing it doesn’t even make sense.
He walks me out to his Range Rover, helping me into the passenger seat. I lean my head back against the seat, wishing I wouldn’t have had three strong drinks when we have to fly out so early tomorrow.
“I feel like we’re even,” Dane says as he gets into the driver’s seat.
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, I got wasted last night and you got wasted tonight. Even.”