Series: Torn and Bound Duet Series by K. Webster
Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
I laugh to myself, because he didn’t walk in on what I did the other night. Ashton might be gay, but I know he’s got a hard-on for Mia.
“Well, I imagine if anyone can make a guy flip his switch, it’d be her.”
Brayden glares my way but doesn’t comment.
“Need a ride to the restaurant?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Nope,” he says, then stalks down the hall, leaving me standing here by myself, feeling as though everything is about to change, and unsure if that’s a good or a bad thing.
One goal.
One fucking goal.
It was infuriating that I played like shit. I blame Drew. He always has this suffocating presence that seeps into my pores, reminding me I’m second best. I wonder if he was disappointed in my playing. I hate that I even care.
At practice on Monday, I’ll have to go harder and more aggressive. There’s no way in hell I’ll make it to the NHL playing like I did today. I dread to think of the NHL scouts watching that game.
Fuck.
I’m stressed to fuck as I pull in behind Ashton’s expensive-ass silver Audi at the restaurant. In my rearview mirror, Drew is right behind me. Even from his truck, his intense blues are burning holes into me. Rather than parking, Mia jumps out. Her tits bounce in her tight black T-shirt, making me grin. She makes her way over to my window, so I roll it down. The wind blows, sending her hair flying into my Tahoe, tickling my face.
“Ashton hates sushi and he says this place is prissy as fuck. His words, not mine. You care if we grab pizza instead?” She pushes her dark hair from her face, tugging at her bottom lip with her teeth.
“I’m good with pizza. Sure you don’t want to ride with me?” I tease, letting my gaze drop to my lap.
She snorts out a goofy laugh that warms my heart. “Maybe later.”
It wasn’t a no.
The wind whips her hair again and she shivers. She starts to walk away, but I stop her.
“Mia, wait.” I reach onto the floorboard behind the passenger seat and grab a red beanie. “Put this on. Your head is getting cold.”
She frowns in confusion when I hand her the beanie, but nods, taking it from me. When she slides it over her head, covering the tops of her eyebrows, my heart skips a few beats.
“Beautiful.”
Her cheeks turn as red as the beanie and she backs away. “Let me tell Drew and then you guys can follow us.”
My mood has lightened since talking to her and I think about where I’ll take her on a date as I follow them to the pizza place. I’ve got it narrowed down to a couple of places, as I climb out of the Tahoe. All of my good mood is sucked away when Drew gets out of his truck. He saunters my way, his blue eyes homing in on me, concern flashing in them.
I should be pissed he benched me toward the end, but I’m grateful he put me back in just in time for me to at least grab us one goal before the end of the game. With Ashton and Mia here, I can use them as a distraction from having to talk to him.
The thing with Drew is, he sees me right down to the marrow. Every single time he looks at me. At one time, it was pretty fucking cool to be that close to someone. Now, it feels invasive. Like he doesn’t get that right. If I could erect walls around me, I would. Drew would just find a way to walk right through them, though.
“MiMi and I don’t eat fish that still breathes,” Ashton reveals, hyper as fuck tonight. “We’re allergic.”
They both laugh and Drew rolls his eyes at them. I can’t help but smirk.
“Coach Daddy is still buying, though,” Ashton says, his lips curling up into a devious grin that he flashes Drew’s way.
And. Just. Like. That.
I’m pissy again.
Ashton is gay. No big deal. But flirting with Drew? It annoys the hell out of me. As though he’s trying to do it to make me mad. The fucker has been pushing my buttons since I met him. At least I know his button now.
Mia.
I walk over to her, grabbing her hand and tugging her into the restaurant. “I’ve been thinking about our date,” I tell her as the garlicky aromas hit my nostrils, making my stomach clench eagerly for some food.
“Our non-existent, never gonna happen, totally hypothetical date?” she teases.
“Yep. That one. The one where you let me kiss you and tell you how pretty you are.”
She gapes at me, her brown eyes softening. “You’re a real Casanova, huh?”
The hostess interrupts our flirting and motions for us to follow her. She brings us to a booth near some skee-ball machines. I catch Ashton’s annoyed glare when I usher Mia into the booth and then scoot in beside her. It makes me think of Drew’s earlier comment about Mia turning a gay man straight.