Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 87771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
It was Gabe. He was still at one of the pool tables. He’d just reracked the balls and was chalking the end of his stick. His biceps twitched in his baby blue shirt, his chest making every thread of that shirt fight for its damn life.
It was his eyes that made me freeze. He had them locked on me.
Watching.
What the hell? Did he have a problem?
Why were my cheeks flushing with heat?
Why did my lungs tighten and my stomach flutter?
Why the hell was he smiling?
I decided my shower and bed could wait. I wanted to figure out what this guy’s deal was. He’d been acting weird ever since the moment I met him that night in downtown, and it didn’t change after we hung out at the photography meet-up, either. He’d only speak to me if it was about hockey, and he was always bolting out of the locker room after every practice, almost like he was avoiding something.
Or someone.
Me. He was clearly avoiding me, and that, well, it bothered me. I had a craving for praise and validation. I loved to be liked. For a long time, I had solely focused on chasing down my happiness by trying to please my ex-boyfriend—and finding myself constantly failing, especially if his (often shouted) words were to be believed.
With him out of the picture, I had found myself suddenly yearning for praise from all different directions. I wanted to make sure everyone around me was happy, that I was doing a good job, that people liked me.
So this—whatever it was—between me and Gabe had to be squashed.
I didn’t want whatever was brewing under the surface to come out on the ice later. Maybe he just didn’t like me because I was new, or maybe I reminded him of some asshole neighbor who would always let their dog shit in front of his house and never pick it up, making you cross your front yard like it was an active minefield just to check the mail.
That last one I’d understand.
“Is something wrong?” I asked as I reached him.
“Wrong? No, why would it be?”
“I don’t know. You were just looking at me like you had something to say.” Smoke from someone’s fruity vape drifted in my direction. I waved it away. The smell was quickly replaced by whatever oaky, piney cologne Gabe had on. It smelled expensive as fuck.
Gabe shrugged, still smiling. He was a little taller than me, so I had to tilt my head—but not by much, okay?—to meet his eyes. “I’ve got nothing.” He had a cocky attitude that made me want to push him against the wall and start… nope. Not going there.
“You sure? I’ve sensed this weird energy coming from you. I’ve also never seen someone shower and get dressed so fast after practice. It’s like you’re running from a fire.”
“So you’ve been watching me in the shower?” A thick, dark brow arched.
I blinked and flustered out some vowels and consonants, none of them sounding like actual words.
Damn it. I’m such an idiot. He’s going to think I’m a fucking creep.
Gabe winked. “Let me know next time—I’ll use less soap. Covers less.”
“I wasn’t watching,” I finally spat out. Had he drunk more than he should have? Did I drink more than I should have?
…Also, I may have peeked one or twice. But I ignored that. “I just want to make sure there’s no bad blood or anything.”
“Why would there be bad blood? Your plane practically just landed. No, no. I’ve been hurrying out of practice because, well, personal things.” He said it in a tone that made it clear he wasn’t going to delve much deeper than that.
I got hit with an instant smack of regret.
“Ah, right.”
I really was on a roll tonight, wasn’t I? Not only had I made voyeuristic suggestions to one of my teammates, but then I had turned a situation that was none of my business into something centered around me. I should have just gone home. My shoulders slumped, and the exhaustion of the day crawled into me like a Victorian-era ghost looking for someone to possess.
“And I’m sorry I’ve been standoffish,” Gabe said. “Admittedly, I’m not the most social guy on the team. Making new friends isn’t easy for me.”
I still felt stupid as shit, but at least I got confirmation that Gabe didn’t automatically hate me. Not that it would have really mattered at the end of the day. I didn’t get traded so I could participate in the Burlington Bobcats best friend race. As long as we played well together as a team, then that’s all that mattered.
“Okay,” I said, glancing at my watch again. I wanted to blink my eyes, vanish, then reappear in my own bed.
Gabe must have had different plans for me, though. “Grab one,” he said, nodding at the row of pool cues up against the wall. “Play with me.”