Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 136559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 683(@200wpm)___ 546(@250wpm)___ 455(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 683(@200wpm)___ 546(@250wpm)___ 455(@300wpm)
“That all sounds great,” I say. Those were details I wanted to see before I started on Wednesday.
After I hang up, I stare at the phone, still amazed this is happening—a plum temporary job taking pictures. This is my dream. On top of that, the pay is good—better than expected. I’ll have time to keep up with my freelance work, and my boudoir shoots if I’m clever with scheduling, but it shouldn’t be too hard. Most of my boudoir clients prefer evening or weekend sessions to fit around their work schedules. Plus, moving back in with my old roommates means my rent will be even more manageable.
This is a smart move. A responsible move. And, most of all, it’s a chance for me to make my mark.
It’s also a responsible move to tell Miles.
A couple nights later, I finish the official Sea Dogs paperwork, pack up another box in my apartment, and text him.
Leighton: We might need to revise our deal about not being alone together.
Miles: Details???
I start to tap out a reply, but this really deserves an in-person conversation, despite our promise. Where though? If I have him pick me up, we’ll end up parking on the side of the road and making out until we miss all our appointments. Meeting at the arena would be a disaster—my dad, Chanda, or a teammate could walk by at any moment. And where would we even talk? The equipment room? That’s asking for trouble. I’m pretty sure equipment rooms are meant for stealing kisses with sexy hockey players you’re supposed to stay away from.
I pace my living room until the answer slams into me. I smile a little wickedly. Yes, that perfect place. We won’t be alone together there, not at all.
Leighton: Meet me at High Kick tomorrow morning at 10.
Miles: I’m there.
I still take pictures for the shop, so it’ll be the perfect cover. Plus, there will be zero temptation with his grandmother and all her customers in attendance. It will be like a business meeting. That’s all.
17
STALK ME ALL NIGHT LONG
Miles
Funny how I haven’t run into Leighton at High Kick in the last year, despite my best efforts.
Now, we’re meeting deliberately, and I don’t know how to feel about it. I know what I do feel, and it’s not what I should feel.
Catching my reflection in the shop window, I pause and run a hand through my hair, giving it a quick, unnecessary tousle. I tug at the hem of my Henley next. Everything looks fine, but here I am, adjusting anyway.
This is a fact-finding mission and nothing more.
Still, I’m eager to hear Leighton’s reason for revisiting our “no being alone together” promise.
I’ve been up for a while—I met with my local geocache club to search for a new stash over by the Ferry Building. Found it in thirty minutes, so I’m early. Anticipation feels like I’ve downed a couple of espressos, but it’s all about seeing Leighton.
Inside the café, I head to the counter, where my grandmother sets a plated toffee brownie in front of a customer, paired with what smells like a caramel latte.
“That’ll be nine dollars,” Birdie says. The woman has double French braids in her hair and a dusting of freckles across her cheeks. She hands over a ten, and while my grandmother makes change, the customer glances at me, then glances again, her eyes lit up with recognition.
“Oh my gosh! Miles Falcon, right?”
“That’s me,” I say evenly.
“I’m a huge fan! I’m so excited that hockey’s back tomorrow.”
“Me too,” I reply, keeping things polite and low-key.
“My friends will be thrilled when they hear I met you! My sister Cassidy likes Tyler, but you’re my favorite.”
“Ouch.” I pretend to be mortally wounded. “And he hasn’t even played his first game as a Sea Dog.”
“I know.” The woman shakes her head, so very disappointed in Cassidy. “I’ve told her I have better taste.”
She bounces on her heels, looking at Birdie, who takes her cue. “Want a picture?” my grandma asks, always my number one hype girl.
“I’d love one.” The woman thrusts her phone at Birdie like the offer might disappear. “I’m Kendra, by the way.”
Kendra steps in beside me, wedging herself close. I give the camera a practiced smile.
Birdie takes the photo and hands back the phone, adding, “Be sure to tag the shop if you post it. ‘Sea Dog Spotted in the wild at High Kick Coffee, home of the best toffee brownies and caramel lattes.’”
“I will! Thank you so much!” Kendra says, then heads off to a corner table with her drink and brownie.
I turn to Birdie, shaking my head. “So much for lying low. You totally blew my cover.”
She rolls her eyes. “Honey, sometimes people recognize you. You’ll just have to cope with some crushes on the Falcon brothers. I can’t help it if you inherited my fabulous facial structure.” She sets a hand on her chin and turns her head to show off those cheekbones. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”