Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 83550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Before she can say anything else, I slip through the door. A little bell rings overhead, announcing my presence. Inside, the rich scent of coffee wraps around me like a comforting blanket, soothing my frayed edges.
It’s a splurge I don’t usually allow myself but today calls for reinforcements. I tossed and turned all night, unable to get comfortable. I couldn’t stop thinking about the guy next to me.
Normally, I make a cup before leaving the townhouse in the morning. Unfortunately, that wasn’t possible, especially after sniffing what the guys had lying around the house.
Um, no, thanks.
I choose life.
I slip my phone from my pocket and pull up the campus chat app, wanting to read ColdAsIce17’s message from last night. After my life went sideways, there was no time to do it.
ColdAsIce17
Exhausting is an understatement. People love to slap a label on you and call it a day. They don’t care about the fine print.
Me
Ugh, yes. It’s like, “Sorry, I didn’t realize my life was an open book for everyone to scribble in.”
ColdAsIce17
Scribble? Nah, some people take a damn Sharpie to it.
A laugh bubbles out before I can stop it.
Me
Talking with you is so easy. How do you get it?
ColdAsIce17
I’m annoyingly perceptive. It’s one of my many talents.
Me
Oh, many talents? Modest much?
ColdAsIce17
Never. But seriously, if someone’s making your life harder, you don’t owe them anything. You’ve got enough to deal with without carrying their bullshit too.
My chest constricts at his words.
Me
Easier said than done.
ColdAsIce17
True. But you don’t have to carry it alone.
I stare at his message, the sincerity in those simple words making my throat tighten. He doesn’t even know who I am, yet somehow, he always knows exactly what I need to hear.
Me
Thanks. That means a lot.
ColdAsIce17
Anytime. And hey, if you want me to send a strongly worded text or an army of angry emojis, just say the word.
Me
LOL. Tempting. I’ll let you know.
ColdAsIce17
I’ll be here waiting.
For the first time all day, the tension in my shoulders loosens. Ice has no idea just how much his words steady me, but maybe that’s okay. Some things are better left unsaid. For now, anyway.
I step up to the counter, ready to place my order, when a familiar voice catches my attention.
“Just the person I was hoping to run into.”
I turn to find Garret, fresh from practice. His damp hair curls against his temples, and he’s wearing a hoodie with sweatpants. It seems to be the unofficial uniform of college hockey players everywhere.
“Hey.”
He steps closer, his expression troubled. “There’s a rumor going around that you’re seeing Sanderson.” His sharp gaze searches mine as disbelief fills his voice. “Tell me it’s not true.”
I force myself to nod, knowing there’s nothing else I can say. “Yeah, it is.”
Garret’s jaw tightens. “I don’t understand. I thought you couldn’t stand the guy.”
My tongue darts out to lick my dry lips. “It’s complicated. We were keeping things quiet.” I retreat a small step, needing a little bit of distance. “Just kind of feeling out the situation.”
“I was kind of hoping there might be something between us.”
I blink, thrown off by his admittance. We’ve had a few classes together over the years and have always been friendly, but it was never anything more than that. At least, not on my end.
Awkwardness descends as I shift. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I thought we were just friends.”
A mixture of hurt, disappointment, and anger swirls through his eyes. “Guess I was hoping we could be more,” he says quietly.
Before I can figure out how to respond, a strong arm slides around my waist and hauls me against a very solid chest.
“Hey, babe,” Bridger says, his voice hard.
When he rests his chin on my shoulder, I’m hit with the faint scent of sandalwood and cedar. My pulse skyrockets, and I don’t know if it’s because I want to slap him or because his proximity does funny things to my insides.
I’m really hoping it’s not the latter.
Garret’s eyes flash as his upper lip curls. “Sanderson.”
“Akeman,” Bridger acknowledges in a clipped tone, his grip tightening just enough to make my heart stutter. “Thanks for keeping my girl company.”
“Strange, she never mentioned you,” Garret says before glancing at me again. “Guess I’ll see you around, Holland.”
I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. By the time I gather my thoughts, Garret’s gone, leaving me alone with Bridger and the warmth of his body pressed against my backside.
“You’re welcome,” Bridger says, his lips brushing against my ear in a way that’s way too intimate for my liking.
I whirl around and shove at his chest. “What the hell was that about?”
“That,” he says with an infuriating smirk, “was me saving you from Garret Akeman’s feeble attempts at flirting. The guy has zero game. You’re welcome.”
“You’re the last person I need to save me.”
He shrugs, clearly unbothered. “Could’ve fooled me. It looked like you were floundering.”