Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 88463 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88463 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
I shake my head. “No, we don’t.”
“Listen.” I hear him take a breath, and his voice calms, as if he’s trying to talk to a wild animal. “I know you’ve had a lot going on in Montana. I understand that. But the team needs answers. Hell, the fans are starting to wonder if it’s the team’s fault that you haven’t committed, accusing the Blizzard of not offering you enough money. Once you sign the new contract, all the hype will calm down, and you can do whatever you need to do until training camp starts.”
“I’m not signing another contract.” He starts to swear on the other end of the line, but I talk over him. “I’m retiring, Andy. I’ll come to Seattle for a press conference, and I’ll keep the commitments we’ve made for sponsorships, but I’m not signing anything new.”
“You ungrateful piece of—”
I hang up on him and blow out a breath.
“You’re retiring?” Aiden asks from the back seat.
“You’re listening?” Willow counters in surprise. “I thought you were watching something on your phone.”
“I can do both. I can multitask,” Aiden says. “So are you really gonna retire, Ry?”
“Yep. The ranch is my job now.”
“I thought that Andy works for you,” Willow says. “Not the other way around.”
“What are you getting at?”
“I don’t like the way he speaks to you.” Her voice has an edge to it that makes my dick twitch. “What a colossal jerk.”
“I’m severing ties with him,” I reply. “I’ll still need an agent moving forward because there will be guest appearances and stuff, but I don’t want to work with Andy anymore.”
“Good.” She reaches over to pat my thigh, and I snatch her hand up in mine, keeping her close.
Her eyes leave the road long enough to look at me, but I still don’t let go. I want to touch her. I want to keep her close.
And I’m done fucking fighting it.
“If I ever go to the NHL, I’m not hiring Andy,” Aiden says from the back seat.
Willow’s eyes widen, and she looks at her nephew in the rearview mirror. “If you’ve already decided that you’re going to the NHL, does that mean that you want me to put you in hockey, buddy?”
“Yeah.” I glance back in time to see him shrug. “It could be good, I guess. Ry says I’m not too old.”
She presses her lips together, and then they tip up in a small smile. “I don’t think you’re too old either.”
Wills squeezes my hand, and for the first time since I saw her this morning, her shoulders relax.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“I didn’t do anything.”
She just squeezes my hand again and shakes her head once. “Thank you.”
Chapter Nine
Willow
Now that I don’t have to worry about sleeping through my alarm every morning, you’d think that I would sleep like a baby in a milk coma.
But no. Not me. Not this girl.
I’ve always slept well in this room, and I know my boy is safe out at the bunkhouse. In the three days we’ve been living here, I’ve managed to get so much work done in my new studio, I’m giddy about it. I feel at home here, and I’m not uncomfortable at all.
But can I sleep?
No.
And why, you ask?
Because of the hot hockey player two doors down.
Make that former hockey player. I’m so damn proud of Ryker for standing up to Andy and telling him off. I wanted to reach through that phone and punch that guy’s nose. I’ve met him a couple of times through the years, and I never liked him. I never believed that he had Ryker’s best interests at heart. Andy has always been all about the money, and sometimes that meant too much work for Ry.
I hate that guy.
But even that isn’t why I can’t sleep. I don’t know what to do about all this lust I’m feeling. I think he feels it too. He hasn’t said so, but we’ve had moments when he touches me, when I think he wants to kiss me, and I know he’s not oblivious to the chemistry.
But if he admits to himself that he feels it, he’s holding back.
And that makes me want to hold back, too, because I’d be absolutely fucking mortified if I made a move and he rejected me.
I don’t think I could come back from that. I don’t know if our friendship would survive, because . . . how do you get over that?
So, instead, I ogle the sexy man and have these stupid daydreams about what it would be like if he railed me all night long, and I get myself so worked up, I can’t sleep.
I’ve never been good at getting myself off, so I’m simply perpetually keyed up.
“There’s some ice cream downstairs,” I mumble to myself and push the covers off my body. I’m in a thin tank top, because my usual pajama top is in the wash, and a pair of sleep shorts that have seen better days.