Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 51827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
This is Jules’s world, and all the players and teammates are really nice, but I still feel like a little kid playing dress-up. I belong at home on my couch in baggy sweats and a T-shirt.
Even though I shouldn’t, I look for Magnus on the other side of the room. My heart sinks when I find him. He’s standing with Caroline and a beautiful blond woman, who’s looking at him like he hung the moon.
Talia follows my gaze, frowning. “Are you kidding me? She’s relentless.”
“Tally,” Noel cautions with a slight shake of his head.
She rolls her eyes and gives me a sympathetic look. “She tried to do this with Lucien, too.”
Lucien doesn’t know what she’s talking about until he figures out who she’s looking at.
“Oh, yeah.” He grins at me. “Rite of passage for our players. Don’t worry about it.”
I smile politely, my cheeks warming. If only I had a knife in that tiny bag so I could stab Jules in the leg.
I knew Jules was trying to set me up with Magnus, but I didn’t realize every single person at the table also knew. Now I’m the object of eight people’s pity.
My stomach rumbles, reminding me I’m also missing out on pizza.
6
Magnus
* * *
Kelsey’s a classic puck chaser. She’s biting her lip and hanging on every word I say, even though I’m saying as little as possible.
This is a tightrope walk. I can’t afford to piss off my team owner’s sister or his cousin’s daughter. But I’m also well fucking aware that Caroline was rude to Blair, and Kelsey is refusing efforts to rebuff her.
I guess I’m up for sale to Hudson McClain as a hockey player, but that doesn’t mean I’ll form personal relationships with people close to him just to get in his good graces.
“We should hang out,” Kelsey says, putting a palm on my chest. “Want to get a drink after the event?”
She’s twenty-four, tall and thin, and she works for one of McClain’s businesses as a creative consultant. I can smell the nepotism on her.
“I’m here with a date.”
Kelsey’s smile falters.
Caroline scoffs. “You said she was just a friend.”
“I said we’re here with friends. But we’re on a date.” I glance over my shoulder at the table, where Blair’s looking uncomfortable beside the empty chair I’m supposed to be sitting in. “It was nice to meet you both. I have to go.”
I don’t wait for them to respond. After making my way through the crowd of minglers looking at auction items, I exit the ballroom and find the hotel’s concierge desk in the lobby.
“How may I help you, sir?” a man in a polished suit asks.
“I need a Sprite.”
“A Sprite? Like the drink?”
“Should be easier to find than a woodland creature, right?”
He doesn’t get the joke.
“I can check with our kitchen staff, or you can buy one from the vending machines in the vestibule by the elevators.”
“I’ll buy one. Can you get me a glass with some ice in it?”
“Of course, sir. Right away.”
The vending machine vestibule is hidden by frosted-glass walls. I swipe my credit card and push the buttons for a bottle of Sprite, which is delivered by a mechanical arm.
After picking up the glass of ice, I go back into the ballroom. On my way to the table, I see a pro football player from Cincinnati and an actress who fetches eight figures per film.
I can’t even imagine having the kind of money the two of them do. But if my not jumping all over his cousin’s daughter costs me a contract in Cleveland, I don’t want one.
I’m not the smartest or funniest guy in any room, but I won’t be outworked, and I treat people the way I want to be treated.
Lyckan söker den some inte jager den.
My grandpa always said that. It translates to “luck finds the one who doesn’t chase it”.
Carter Stanton is a veteran player and a great guy; he told me there’s a place for me on a pro team, even if it’s not Cleveland’s. I have to trust that and not let worry derail me.
When I set the glass of ice and bottle of Sprite down beside Blair’s plate and take my seat beside her, she smiles at me.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she says. “But thank you.”
“I know where to get them now if you need more.”
She opens the bottle and fills her glass immediately. A server puts a fresh bottle of Heineken on the table for me.
“So how’s nursing school?” I ask her.
“It’s good. I’m starting a clinical rotation in an obstetrics unit next week.”
“Are you looking forward to it?”
“Mostly. I’m a little nervous, but mostly excited.”
“Do you have to look at ... the ...?” I stumble over my words.
“Vaginas? Yes.” Her warm smile goes all the way to her eyes. “And C-sections, too. That stuff doesn’t bother me, though.”