Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
“Love you,” I say softly, my guilt riding me hard. I watch as she grabs her purse and walks out. Once she’s gone, I lean on the counter and look out around the room. I’ll need to tell her and my sisters by the end of the week since Austen will be heading out. Then there is Peepaw…
Fuck me. Maybe I should take this one person at a time.
Or I could do an Instagram post and hide?
Or even wait till the baby comes.
All good options, really…
When my phone sounds on the counter, I glance at it to see it’s Alex. I hate the small smile that pulls at my lips. I need to keep my wits around this man, but it’s hard when I know with every word he texts me, there is a wide smile behind them.
Alex: Last chance for me to pick you up.
Me: I can drive.
Alex: But wouldn’t it be better to ride with me? Because then you can ride me on the way home.
Me: You’ll have a hard time making that happen when, one, I’m not riding with you, and two, I have leggings on.
Alex: But see, all you have to do is agree to ride with me, and I’ll tear those leggings off in a heartbeat.
I squeeze my thighs together and close my eyes. How is this so easy? Falling right back into flirting relentlessly with him?
I press my lips together and write back.
Me: If you want that, why did you wait until you were back to say it?
Alex: Because I was in Nashville, and you would have ignored me. I know you, Elliot Bea McDavid. As much as you try to make it seem like I don’t, I do. And if I’m in your face, you can’t deny how badly you want me back.
He’s not wrong. It was easy to resist with space between us. Before I can type back, though, another text comes through.
Alex: But I’m back, and I need to make up for lost time.
Alejandro Cruz is a heathen.
A pain in my ass.
And damn if I’m not excited to spend time with him.
Even if it’ll be short-lived.
CHAPTER 10
Alex
My fingers drum on top of the table in the Italian restaurant I love as I wait for my flighty date. It’s a little mom-and-pop kind of place, only eight tables, the kitchen bigger than the whole main dining area. It’s my favorite place. The food is incredible, but I also love that they always seat me in the back by the kitchen. The chef’s table. I had scored an open invitation back when I met the owners’ son at our Kids Skate to Learn event. I took a quick liking to Alfonso and found myself eating here a lot to spend time with the kid. He wants to be a goalie, and I’ve enjoyed mentoring him. In return, they let me sit at the exclusive table.
And right now, I couldn’t be more thankful for it.
It’s semiprivate, and even with the kitchen being so close, it’s not overwhelming or loud. It’s romantic, dimly lit, a small table with a pink tablecloth and two white chairs. The table is set with two place settings, and a small candelabra sits in the middle with three candles in it. I glance at the door for the ninth time since I sat down, and disappointment wears on me when I don’t see her. Elliot isn’t late. I’m just insanely early.
I’m ready to see her.
My nerves are eating me alive.
I’ve practiced my speech a billion times. Seeing her, feeling her in my arms, only made me realize how badly I want to see and feel her every day. I knew I felt something for her when this started between us, something deep and breathtaking. It was too easy—the flirting, the talking, and the sex. It’s all the best I’ve ever had. I’ve never met someone as intriguing as her. I love how she tries to hide from me, because when I uncover her truth, it’s like I won.
I’m a competitive man, and Elliot McDavid is a game that keeps me on my toes.
The time apart was torture, and I threw myself into hockey, focusing only on that and nothing else so I wouldn’t think of her. But still, I did. I thought of her at every turn. When I’d eat Skittles before my game, I always took out the yellow ones since they were her favorite. When I’d get ice cream, I’d throw a scoop of butter pecan on there because she loved it, and the smell reminded me of her.
I’ve found myself watching Bridgerton on repeat because she’s obsessed with it, and when she’d walked around the house, speaking in a British accent, asking if I wanted to promenade across the living room, I’d never laughed so hard.
But I’d fucking promenaded.