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)
She’ll only be with me for another six to eight weeks, depending on how our season goes. I hate the thought of her leaving and eventually finding some other man who will get to touch her and wake up beside her every day.
It won’t be one of my teammates doing it right under my nose, not after what Sam did to me.
I take a cab to the downtown deli where I’m meeting Abigail. Even though I’m five minutes early, she’s already there, sitting in a booth for two with a massive smile on her face.
She squeals and stands up when I walk in, hugging me and taking a selfie of the two of us. She’s wearing a jersey cut for a woman with my number on it, her red hair loose around her shoulders. “Thank you for doing this,” she says, unable to stop smiling. “I’ve been a huge fan of yours forever.”
“I appreciate it.”
A server comes over to take our drink orders—unsweet tea for me and lemonade for her. I look over the menu after that, but Abigail looks at me.
“Did you already decide what you want?” I ask her.
“Oh, I’ll just take anything. I don’t want to waste a second I could spend looking at you.”
I cringe inside. I’m just an ordinary guy who happens to be really good at hockey. It’s always weird for me when people are starstruck.
“So I hear you’re in medical school,” I say, closing the menu. “That’s great. What kind of doctor do you want to be?”
“A pediatrician.”
“Wow, awesome. Med school must be super hard.”
She nods. “Some of my classes have been. I like it, though.”
The server returns, glancing between us expectantly. She’s the opposite of starstruck with the deli so busy there’s a line out the door.
“I’ll have the club on wheat with potato salad,” I say.
“I’ll take the special,” Abigail says, her gaze still on me.
The server writes down the order and disappears. I immediately wish she’d come back.
“So, have you been following the datemedane hashtag?” Abigail asks.
“Uh, no...my assistant was actually the one who saw it.”
Her face lights up. “Oh. Well.” She reaches across the table, her fingertips grazing my chest. “The internet is totally shipping us. And I’m free tonight for your game.”
Normally, I wouldn’t turn down an attractive, eager woman. Games end late and it’s hard to find hookups. But Abigail doesn’t do it for me because she’s not Josie.
“I appreciate that, but”
She cuts me off. “I’ll do anal. Or a threesome. Whatever you want, I’m down.”
My lips part because...that was unexpected. I quickly put my game face back on.
“Um...I just want to have lunch.”
Her expression falls. “Am I not pretty enough for you?”
I silently curse Josie for making me do this. It doesn’t matter what Abigail looks like. I was never going to want more than lunch with her. But now, in her eyes, I’m the bad guy because I don’t want to bring her to my hotel room tonight for group sex with me and my teammates.
“No, you’re very pretty. It’s just that there’s someone else I’m into.”
She arches her brows, looking hopeful again. “I said I’d do a threesome.”
I can’t help laughing as I imagine pitching that idea to Josie. “Uh, she wouldn’t go for that.”
Abigail recoils. “So you think I’m a slut for liking threesomes?”
I look around, feeling like I’m being punk’d or something. “I didn’t say that.”
She sneers. “You didn’t have to. You made it clear that your precious girlfriend”--she air-quotes the word--“thinks she’s too good for threesomes.”
I put my hands up in mock surrender. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“You’re an asshole!”
She throws her lemonade at me and slides out of the booth, then stomps out of the deli. People are looking at me, a couple of them recording with camera phones.
Awesome. This PR fail, for once, was not my fault.
I leave cash on the table and get up, lemonade dripping from my shirt onto the floor as I walk out. Once outside, I text Josie.
Dane: That didn’t go well.
Josie: WTF?? How could it have been any easier? You make small talk over sandwiches and leave.
Dane: She wanted anal.
Josie: OMG. I am deceased...
Dane: You may see videos online of her throwing her drink on me.
Josie: Shit. I’ll start damage control.
Dane: This is what you get for asking me to go out on a date with someone else...j/s
Josie: My fault for assuming you could calmly cornhole her and move on with your life I guess...
Dane: Not funny
Josie: Are you going to the arena?
Dane: Yes.
Josie: Meet you there.
Dane: Bring me a meatball sub?
Josie: Okay. Don’t talk to any reporters.
Dane: Ok boss. Wear my jersey.
Josie: I might.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Josie
Big hands move down my body, cupping my breasts and making me gasp. They reach my stomach, a thumb lightly dipping into my belly button before continuing down. I can’t see a face, but I know it’s Dane. Only he could make me feel this way.