Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
I feel like a teenage boy who’s about to talk to his crush who is way out of his league. I don’t know what to do. I suddenly forget how to stand. Where should I put my damn arms?
I cross them, then put them in my pockets, and then take them out when she finally arrives.
“Mr. VanMorgan,” she says thrusting her hand out. “I’m Riley MacIntosh. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
I swallow hard and nod as I take her hand, feeling her soft warm skin. It sets a fire raging inside me that wants more more more. I want to feel every inch of her. I want those hands all over me.
“The pleasure is all mine,” I say as I shake hands with her. She pulls her hand back and I reluctantly let it go. “Thank you for hosting us. I was just looking at your article.”
She laughs when she sees the magazine rolled up under my arm. “Of course, they used the photo where I had oil smeared on my face.”
“I think you look phenomenal,” I say, knowing I’m coming on too strong, but I can’t seem to stop myself.
“It’s very cool,” Zara says, stepping in to save me before I blow my shot forever. “Only a badass female owner would know how to fix a Zamboni.”
“Thank you,” she says, smiling shyly. “My father made sure I knew every little detail about hockey. The game and everything involved in it.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your father,” I tell her, suddenly getting my composure back. “He was a very special man. Hockey was lucky to have him.”
“So was I,” she says, smiling sadly.
The sad beautiful sight breaks my heart. I want to reach out and take her in my arms. I want to hug her. I want to kiss her. I want to take all her pain away.
Instead, I just stand there and nod. I can’t do anything else. She’s not mine to comfort.
Not yet anyway.
“Well, good luck in the game,” she says, smiling the sadness away. “But not too much luck.”
Everyone laughs around her. I’m too mesmerized to laugh.
“Please let us know if you’re lacking anything.”
The only thing I’m lacking is her.
She’s the one thing I don’t have and the one thing I have no idea how to get.
“We’ll meet again soon,” she says before leaving with her people.
“Wow, she’s awesome,” Zara says, staring at her in awe as she walks away. “So cool. I want to be her.”
I just want her.
My head is swimming with the image of that goddess as we walk to my private box. I can’t think of the game or anything else as I sit down. I’m stuck in a fog of awe.
The game starts and I have trouble paying attention. I keep looking across the arena at Riley’s box, hoping to catch a glimpse of her.
I can barely see her, but I can’t stop looking.
Several minutes into the game, I’m still thinking of her soft lips and gorgeous figure when the siren blares and the crowd cheers. I look up from my dazed stupor and wince when I see that the Vipers have scored.
Instead of looking at the Hyenas or the replay playing on the big screen, I look at my girl celebrating on the other side of the arena. I wish I was next to her, so I could see that gorgeous smile on her face. I wish I was one of those lucky people getting a high-five from her.
All I get is the tiny image of her celebrating, but it’s still enough to fill my chest with warmth.
“Why are you smiling?” Zara asks, looking incredulous. “They just scored. Oh.”
She follows my eyes to see where I’m looking.
“Someone’s got a crush on the rival owner, I see.”
I don’t deny it. There’s no point. And to be honest, I might need Zara’s help to get this dream woman on my arm. I’ll take all the help I can get.
We end up losing, one to nothing.
The boys played great, or at least of what I saw they did. But the Vipers are a strong team and they got lucky with that one shot.
Stunningly, I’m not upset. I’m excited.
The game is over, which means that Riley MacIntosh will finally be leaving her private box. And the loss gives me the perfect excuse to go talk to her. I’ll congratulate her on her team’s victory and hopefully make plans to see her again.
“She’s single,” Zara tells me as we walk into the hallway. She’s doing some research on her phone, trying to give me an edge. “At least, as far as I can tell.”
She better not be taken. I don’t know what I’d do if my dream girl had a boyfriend. I don’t even want to go there. Some dark parts of your mind should remain boarded up forever and that’s one of them.