Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 73002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“Mostly.”
“I’m heading out to Lost Man’s Loop tomorrow,” he said before his eyes met Wells’s. His body caught on fire being in Haverbrooke’s gaze. He wanted desperately to reach out, to touch him. Move his finger along even an inch of his forearm. It looked so delicious, perfect, and Wells really needed to get out of there. He was getting harder by the second, and he knew darn well there was no release in the future. “Is it good hiking?”
Swallowing hard, Wells nodded. “I’ve been out there a few times with my buddies. We love it.”
“Cool, I’m looking forward to it. I like that kind of shit.”
“It’s a lot of fun.”
“It is. Do you camp?”
“Hell yeah. My bud Vaughn has this great piece of land north of here that we all go out to.”
“That’s awesome. Being from New Jersey, I didn’t get to camp much. But now, I love it.”
“Oh, I could show you all the best places here. But, dude, best place to camp is the Vineyards down in Texas. Hands down, the most fun.”
“I’ll have to check it out.”
“Yeah, and the zip-lining in Puerto Rico is phenomenal.”
Haverbrooke laughed a little, the sound causing Wells’s stomach to clench. “I haven’t been.”
Wells threw his hand up. “What? Dude, come on. It’s the best!”
“I’m jealous. I do want to go, but I haven’t had the time.”
“Make the time. It’s fucking awesome.”
“It’s like parasailing, right?”
Wells shrugged. “Eh, yeah, but better.”
“I’ll have to check it out.”
“Yeah, I can give you the best places.”
“I’d like that.” His words were as smooth as ice, his eyes so damn dark. Wells wasn’t sure if it was the low lighting or what, but he was pretty sure Haverbrooke might be giving him the eyes. No, he was insane. Or hoping for something that wasn’t even happening.
How pathetic.
Haverbrooke slowly nodded then, his eyes narrowing a bit as the men stayed locked in each other’s gazes. Wells’s body was trembling with anticipation for what he would say. He wanted to know everything. He wanted to sit there and listen to the younger man talk in his dark, sultry voice. When Haverbrooke’s head fell to the side, Wells’s brows pulled in.
What was wrong?
“You play for Colorado.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Yeah, number twenty-one.”
His eyes didn’t leave Wells’s as he kept nodding. “Yeah. I stole the puck from you tonight.”
“Yeah, thanks, asshole,” Wells teased, and he grinned widely at him.
“Easy pick. Especially when you had your head down.”
“Duly noted.”
Haverbrooke’s brows went up a bit in surprise. “No cocky reason why?”
“Nope,” Wells said, shrugging. “When you get to my age, there is no reason to be cocky. I know when I make mistakes, and I know when I kick ass. I don’t need to be someone I’m not.”
His smile slowly fell away as he held Wells’s gaze. “That’s very insightful.”
“I’m known to be. Though, don’t ask my buddies or my sister. They’ll tell you otherwise.”
Haverbrooke grinned as he reached for his beer. “Mine would probably tell you I’m a dick.”
“Are they right?”
He shrugged. “Depends on the day.”
Wells scoffed as he looked over at him.
Holding out his hand, Haverbooke said, “I’m Matthew Haverbrooke. But my friends call me Matty.”
Taking his hand, Wells swore he almost came like a sixteen-year-old seeing his first gay porn. “Wells Lemiere.”
He held Wells’s hand longer than Wells expected him to, his eyes mysterious as recognition dawned in them. When he let go, Wells felt naked as he reached for his beer. “Wells Lemiere, the openly gay hockey player.”
“Shit, is that my label? I thought it would be Wells Lemiere, the great. Or the awesome. Or hell, I’ve got a sick wrister.”
Matty chuckled as he took a long pull of his beer. “You do, but I know your name from the magazines. I especially enjoyed the photo of you covering your junk with the glove.”
Wells’s face burned with embarrassment. “I was like twenty when I did that. Needed the money and my buddies dared me to.”
“It was a good article.”
“Yeah, that’s not all you enjoyed.” It was a ballsy statement, and at first, Wells was surprised he’d said it. Usually, he only joked like that with Vaughn and Jensen, to fuck with them. Vaughn more than Jensen, but yet, he had just done it with Matty. When Matty’s gaze cut to Wells’s, he held it for a while, a grin pulling at his lips. Turning his body, he looked squarely at Wells, leaning his elbow on the bar as he pointed to him.
Wells was sure Matty was about to cuss at him, call him a faggot or something equally offensive, but his grin was throwing Wells off. And the heat… Wells swore there was tons of heat moving between them. “You’re also the Wells Lemiere that was staring at me on the bench before that jackass started shit with you.”
Wells feigned shock. “I wasn’t staring at you. I was watching the puck.”