Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Challenge One: Blindfolded Blitz
“Don’t worry, I’ll explain it later,” she said for his ears alone. Then louder, “It should be a cinch.” Skylar adopted a casual backward lean against Robbie’s chest. So casual he wondered if she realized she’d done it at all. “We won’t even break a sweat.”
Her brother shrugged, handing the list to Madden, who—goddammit—had to tear his attention off Skylar in order to take it. “Easy peasy.”
Vivica laughed. “Tell yourself whatever helps you sleep at night, but we all remember the ER visit of 2021. You needed seventeen stitches, right, Madden?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Vivica high-fived her husband. “That’s what I thought.”
These people were intense.
Skylar turned to face Robbie, dropping her voice to a whisper. “We should probably get to bed early tonight.”
Spend alone time with Skylar, no Madden in sight?
“Sign me up.”
She started to back toward the house, holding the laminated challenge to her chest, her bravado so bold, scholars would write odes in its honor one day. “One last thing,” she called to her family. “We’re changing our team name to Rocket and Redbeard.”
Elton doubled over and made a retching sound.
Robbie and Skylar fist-bumped on their way into the house.
“Come on.” They walked side by side down the hallway toward her bedroom. “The longer we spend around them, the more they’ll get in our heads.”
“You’re right,” Robbie said. “We need some team bonding time. I’ve got just the thing.”
“No.”
“It was worth a shot.”
Chapter Eleven
Shirtless men didn’t faze Skylar. Usually.
She’d grown up with a brother who’d stumbled into the kitchen in his boxers most mornings, plunging his paw into the closest cereal box. His friends were always swimming in their backyard, oftentimes in very translucent underwear, not to mention pantsing each other every chance they got. She’d seen a lot of shrinkage in her day. Lots of butts. A bare chest didn’t even rate. Usually.
Robbie Corrigan, professional hockey player, didn’t have just any chest.
Or abdomen.
Or arms.
Nothing about him was typical.
He was a thick, stacked, red-bearded giant. In her bedroom.
And she was watching him pull on sleep sweatpants in the mirror of her vanity when her back was supposed to be turned.
Obviously, she’d had a lot of doubts about their scheme to get Madden to notice her—and she still did. Tonight at the cookout, however, she hadn’t expected to feel so much like a united front. As much as she loved and adored Eve, Skylar inevitably felt like the odd one out at the Page Stakes every year. The underdog. The pest. The one who hadn’t quite lived up to the lofty expectations set forth by her overachiever family. Robbie talked a lot of shit, had an overwhelming amount of confidence, and didn’t seem at all fazed by his sudden entrée into their zany family competition.
Something about his ability to roll with the punches? It allowed her to stress less and focus more. It was . . . not awful.
Maybe he wasn’t awful.
Maybe they even had a chance to win?
“What are you thinking about so hard over there, Rocket?”
Her chin jerked up to find him watching her in the vanity mirror, those superhuman hands perched on his hips, chest still blessedly bare. She could appreciate him objectively, right? One athlete to another. He kept himself in peak physical condition.
Good for him.
Good for half the women in Boston, too.
Skylar cleared the confusing twinge from her throat. “I was just pondering.”
He leaned back against the dresser on the opposite side of the room, crossing his arms, his biceps and triceps competing for attention. “Care to share?”
“Uh . . .” Stop looking at the V. “I was thinking about the competition tomorrow. I’ve done this event before and on the surface, it might sound kind of silly. But it’s not. It’s actually pretty hard. We need to have a game plan.”
“I’m going to be blindfolded. You’ll lead me through the headphones.”
“I—” She wrinkled her nose. “Why are you automatically the blindfolded one?”
“A couple of reasons.” He uncrossed his arms in order to count on his fingers. “One, there’s no way I’ll be able to sit still during any competition. Just thinking about it makes me squirm.” He shuddered. “And two, you could step in a gopher hole and twist your ankle or some shit and I wouldn’t be able to handle it, especially considering I’d be the one giving you directions.”
Okay, that she hadn’t seen coming. As soon as his words sank in, her right eye started to twitch. “You’re worried I’m going to get hurt?”
He studied her in silence. “Why do I feel like I just stepped in it?”
“Because you did.” Slowly, Skylar skirted around the edge of the bed in his direction. “Remember when you asked me on a date during the baseball game? Same thing, Redbeard.” Stopping in front of him, she poked him between those hard pecs. “If we want a chance to win, you have to quit treating me like less of a competitor because I’m a girl.”