Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Just as we are.
This weekend has been a whirlwind of emotions and firsts. It’s crazy, but Ciaran being at my apartment—sleeping in my bed, sitting on my couch, reading with me, eating at my table with me, showering with me—became so normal for me that it was terrifying. I thought I would freak out a bit, falling asleep in his arms since I’ve never done that.
I used to clutch the side of the bed when I slept with my ex-husband, for fear he would touch me. I practically slept on top of Ciaran. There was no space between us, and I didn’t want there to be. I feel safe with him, and when he leaves, I miss him. I feel silly, stupid even, but I can’t help it.
I want him. I want us. This. Everything. And the fact that he just asked to put a label on us has my heart swelling to ten times its size.
Ciaran’s eyes are full of satisfaction as he looks me over in his jersey. I run my hands along the logo, then the C, before beaming up at him. “C is for captain, correct?”
“Yeah. I’m a big deal.”
“You are,” I agree, grinning as I meet his gaze. “How do I look?”
“Like a hockey girlfriend.”
I smile widely at that. “A first for me,” I say slowly, and then I remember that I haven’t told him about my connection with the Bears. I don’t know how I haven’t told him yet. We spent the weekend talking about our lives outside of each other, and I had all the opportunities in the world, but I never mentioned it.
“My girlfriend,” he says huskily, pulling me from my thoughts. He takes my hips in his hands, bringing me flush with him, and I move my arms up and around his neck, holding him to me.
“I like the sound of that,” I murmur, our eyes brimming with heat and want. His gaze drops to my lips, and I watch as he starts to move in to take them, but I can’t kiss him yet. “Did I tell you Austen’s fiancé is a hockey player?”
He pauses at that, his eyes cutting up to mine. “Your sister?”
A lump forms in my throat at the confusion in his eyes. “Yeah. She actually works for the Nashville Assassins.”
Ciaran’s brows come together. “She does? Why didn’t you tell me that when I told you I wanted to play for them?”
“You were telling me about your ex. I didn’t want to interrupt you with my own stuff.”
He nods, seeming to agree, but I can see the hesitation in his eyes. I think this is why I didn’t tell him before, and now I’ve waited too long. Fear creeps into my chest as I hold his gaze.
“She is engaged to Dimitri Titov and is an analyst for the Assassins.”
He nods. “I know Dimitri, and I’m pretty sure Austen evaluated me, but I didn’t put two and two together.”
I bite the inside of my cheek and swallow hard. “Austen didn’t realize you are who you are until Elliot told us you were being announced as captain.”
His eyes narrow. “Elliot?”
“She’s the social media specialist for the Knoxville Bears.”
My stomach is in knots as realization moves over his gorgeous face. His lips are pressed together hard, his jaw tight as he searches my eyes. “El?”
I swallow. “Probably. She doesn’t like her full name because it can be a guy’s name.”
“El is short for Elliot. Your baby sister.”
I nod, and since I don’t know what to say, I correct him. “Second to last. Clara is the baby.”
He swallows. “Elliot is the owner, Dan Davenport’s, granddaughter.”
“Yeah, as am I.”
Ciaran only blinks as he holds my gaze. I don’t look away; I couldn’t if I wanted to. His eyes are dark, his lips parted, while his breaths are a bit labored. I can see him calculating, trying to process what I’ve said, what I haven’t told him until now. “I’m dating the granddaughter of the owner of the team I play for?”
“You are,” I say slowly.
“And you didn’t think you should have told me this from the jump?”
I lick my lips, but our gazes stay locked. “I should have when I found out you played for the Bears. But you tried to call this off, and then you told me why, and after that, I honestly kept forgetting about it because it doesn’t matter to me. I’m not dating you for what you do. I’m dating you for you.”
My words ease some of the tightness in his jaw, but then he asks, “But is Mr. Davenport going to have an issue with this?”
“For me, it doesn’t matter, but I can tell it matters to you.”
He gawks at me, as he should. “He owns the team I play for. He pays me, decides whether I get ice time or if I get traded, Lou,” he says. But while I expected him to raise his voice, he doesn’t.