Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 139259 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139259 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
I let out a sharp breath, running a hand through my hair. “You really live for this, don’t you?”
“What can I say?” She tilts her head, shrugging. “You’re easy to mess with.”
I shake my head and turn my back on her. I have no interest in dealing with her after the day I’ve had. Instead, I head out the door, determined to beeline straight to my car.
“Drive safe, Wilde,” she calls after me, her words echoing in the empty room.
With my luck, Hex just cursed me, and I’ll end up in the middle of a ten-car pileup by the end of the night.
Molly stays behind. She can lock up. Or maybe someone from the cleaning crew will.
Not my problem.
I storm into the parking lot, shoving my bag into the Mustang’s trunk with more force than necessary. Sliding into the driver’s seat, I place the key in the ignition and turn.
Nothing happens.
No big deal.
This happens.
It’s an older Mustang. A classic. My first purchase after I signed with the team.
The only problem with it? Sometimes the ignition is temperamental. Like most beautiful girls in my life, she came with a temper.
“Come on,” I mutter, love tapping the steering wheel.
I turn the key again, and the engine doesn’t so much as sputter this time. It’s obvious something is wrong, and my biggest fear comes true.
The battery is dead, and so am I.
I slam my hands against the steering wheel, leaning back against the headrest as my frustration boils over. Of course, the battery’s dead. Because why wouldn’t it be?
I’m fucked.
Unless . . .
Nope.
That’s off the table. Never in a million years.
I palm my phone, debating whether to call someone for help. But who? I don’t know anyone in Redville. Everyone I do know is on that flight, halfway to the next city, and I’d rather eat my stick shift than run back into the arena and beg Molly for a favor.
But I need to get to the game, and the flights are booked. I checked on my way here. Shit. Maybe I can rent a car in time. The hotel is not that far, only five and a half hours away. Close enough that Coach won’t even miss me. As long as I’m there tomorrow . . .
I check all the rentals in the area. Nothing is available. Fuck.
In my periphery, I spot Molly strolling to her car, her key swinging around her finger on a chain.
With a groan, I drop my head back against the seat.
This day can’t possibly get any worse.
But knowing my luck? It probably will.
6
Molly
I’m halfway out the door, my coffee thermos in hand, when I spot Hudson Wilde stalking across the parking lot toward me.
Whatever he wants, I’m sure I won’t like it.
“Hell no,” I mutter, quickening my pace.
I don’t have time for whatever brand of asshole he wants to introduce me to today.
“Molly,” he calls out, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation.
I ignore him and keep walking. I parked across the lot in my assigned space, a solid distance from the arena. I don’t know why I’m always the rule follower. No one’s here. I could’ve parked right in front and wouldn’t have to deal with the madman beelining for me.
Hudson cuts me off, his bag slung over one shoulder and his expression equal parts sheepish and determined. “I need a ride.”
I blink, certain I’ve misheard him. “You what?”
“A ride,” he repeats, shifting his weight awkwardly. “To the game.”
My mouth is wide open.
I can’t believe what this asshole just had the nerve to ask me.
Finally, I shake myself out of the stupor. “You’re joking, right?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
He doesn’t. Not at all. But I can’t entertain such a ridiculous request. I refuse to.
“Absolutely not.”
“Molly.”
I cross my arms over my chest, glaring at Hudson. “Oh, now I’m Molly.”
I’ve never met someone quite like Hudson Wilde.
He’s warped into the biggest jerk I know. Yes, I did him dirty. I should’ve backed him up last year. Pulled Coach aside and explain what happened in private. But then, Dane had to follow up on the incident and blow everything out of proportion.
And I just . . . couldn’t.
I couldn’t let Dane find out.
One thing would lead to another, and he’d unravel every secret I’ve tried so hard to keep for ten years.
Hudson bats his lashes as if that’ll change anything. “Pretty please?”
“Hudson”—I cross my arms—“I don’t even like being in the same room with you. What makes you think I’d spend five hours in a car with you?”
He runs a hand through his hair, clearly trying to keep his frustration in check. “Look, I don’t exactly have options here. My car’s dead, and I missed the plane. I’ll pay for gas or whatever. Just help me out.”
I take a long sip of my coffee, pretending to mull it over. “Hmm. Let me think . . . No.”