Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 97382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“I want to,” he says almost immediately. “I want to know you.”
“Don’t,” I say just as quickly. “I know your type. I know how men like you work and how deeply I’d fall when you’ll have no plans to. It’s the chase, the fact that I told you no, that has you wanting me.”
He shakes his head. “You’re wrong.”
“I’m not.”
“You are,” he says, so fucking calm it’s making me want to scream. “I want you because I love the fact that I have no idea what is going to come out of your mouth, and it gets me really excited to find out. I really like that you are wicked smart about hockey and don’t back down to me. But most of all, I really enjoy the way your eyes light up when you smile.”
I blink, and then I remember the truth. “Those are the same traits guys in the past have told me attracted them before I became too much. Or when they got in my pants, they realized I’d continue wanting attention, so they cut me off.”
When a slow grin moves across his lips, I feel my world exploding from the inside out. Such confidence rolls off him as he taps the table and nods. “Cool.”
Yeah, that doesn’t sound safe. “Cool?”
“Yup,” he says, slowly getting up, and of course, he has shorts on, and yes, the tattoo is still there, all sexy and lickable.
Wow. Someone needs to get off.
Me. I’m that someone.
When his palms come crashing down on the table, I sit back, surprised, as he locks his eyes with mine. Pure determination flows in those depths, leaving me fighting to remember how to breathe as I press back into the booth. These are the eyes of an athlete who will get what he wants.
Fuck. Me.
“This whole conversation has convinced me what I need to do.”
“What?” I ask breathlessly, my body vibrating with need for this man I shouldn’t want.
He moves his eyes from my eyes to my mouth, then back again, sending heat straight to my core. “I’ve gotta prove I’m not like any other guy you know, have known, or been screwed over by. I have to show you who I am. Who I can be for you. With you. Because of you. That our plans will become one.” My jaw goes slack, and his smile widens. My eyes about fall out of my head when he reaches up, using the tip of his finger to shut my mouth. “If you don’t want my tongue in your mouth, you’d better close it.”
Then the asshole winks.
And he walks away like he didn’t just make me come with his words.
When he reaches the door, he looks back. “Oh, do you watch football?”
I’m still too shocked to answer and can only shake my head. It’s a lie. I know it, he knows it—hell, all of The Penalty Perk knows it, but his smirk is unstoppable.
“Maybe you can come watch me?”
Before I can even try to form words, he leaves, just as the sounds of The Penalty Perk come whirling back to life around me. I hadn’t even realized I’d tuned them out, only focusing on him.
Shit.
This is bad.
So bad.
Which is why I start DoorDashing my coffee and I block him on every social media outlet I have, except for my podcast messenger, because what if I’m wrong and it’s not him?
I like talking to DoesMyBreathStink60.
Who isn’t Dawson Sinclair.
I am such a glutton for punishment.
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
Dawson
The Rowe Report: Episode 1009: Overtime with the Thomases.
Jordie Thomas: All I wanted my whole life was to play hockey. I worked my ass off, got where I needed to be, and thrived. But like all professional sports, it’s hard as hell on your body.
Ambrosia Mercer: Oh, absolutely. My dad was always injured. I remember one gruesome one where his elbow came out the other side after a hell of a hit into the boards.
Kacey Thomas: Oh my God! I remember that. He was trying to take someone else out and hit the bench at just the right spot to cause a clean break.
Jordie Thomas: You’re right. They said his elbow pad may have slipped too.
Ambrosia Mercer: It did, and from what he told me, he made sure to upgrade to the ones that attached to the chest guards.
Kacey Thomas: He should have done that from the jump.
Ambrosia Mercer: Say it louder. Maybe he’ll hear it in heaven.
Laughter.
Ambrosia Mercer: So you got injured?
Jordie Thomas: I did, and when I couldn’t play, I fell into a really wicked depression. I was sleeping around, drinking my body weight in alcohol, and just drowning.
Kacey Thomas: I had no clue what was going on because I was blind to the bad stuff. See, what he didn’t know was I had been in love with him for so long. He has been my brother’s best friend for as long as I can remember, so I was enamored with him the moment I saw him and his bushy beard. I didn’t see the bad. I only saw him through rose-colored glasses.