Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Ryleigh’s eyes widened. “Like…an actual game?”
“Yep. They’re remodeling their basement into a game room, so the guys and I all picked different arcade games. I got the Skee-Ball since it’s London’s favorite.” It was the only game she could kick my ass at, and did so at every opportunity.
“That’s really sweet.” Her expression softened, but she looked away quickly as a few guys called out my name. “Well, aren’t you still the popular kid in school?”
“Half of the guys here are from my team. Come on, I’ll introduce you. We have plenty of time before the shower games start.” I put my hand on the small of her back and led her through the crowd to where the guys had gathered at the balloon-arched bar.
“Right now? But they’re all…famous hockey players,” she hissed, her pace stalling.
“So am I.” I lifted my eyebrows at her. “You’re not scared of me, are you?”
“One, I’m not scared of you, and two, you don’t count. You’re just the cocky, annoying boy next door.” She rolled her eyes.
“Good to know.” My lips tugged upward as we made slower progress toward the bar.
Cannon consumed the barstool on the left, his eyes locked on his wife, Persephone, a few feet away. Sephie waved and continued her conversation with Echo, Sawyer’s wife, before winking at her grouchy husband. Sawyer and Logan were caught up in some conversation about stats while Briggs was busy ordering a drink. Brogan’s massive frame took up almost the entire right side of the bar as he tugged at his collar, looking rather panicked as Echo and Sawyer’s daughter Sadie reached up for him.
“I’ve got her,” Sawyer swooped up the toddler in his arms. “She doesn’t bite, Brogan.”
“You sure about that?” he asked, scooting farther away from the little girl like she just might bare those teeth at him.
“Only when she’s hungry,” Sawyer joked, kissing his daughter on the forehead.
Ryleigh bit back a smile at the exchange.
“Ryleigh, these are my teammates. Cannon, Logan, Sawyer, Briggs, Brogan, Maxim—wait, where’s Axel?” I looked over the crowd to see if one head stood higher than the others, but I didn’t spot our captain anywhere.
“He’s at home with Langley. She wasn’t feeling well, but he said he’ll be here in the next couple of days with Porter,” Maxim answered, lounging back against the bar, shifting the beer in hand so he could shake Ryleigh’s. “I’m Foster’s best friend, by the way. He kind of left that part out.”
“Nice to meet you.” Ryleigh’s smile half-froze as she looked over the bar. “Hi, Chuck.”
Fucking Chuck. What the hell did she see in him?
The asshole stood behind the bar, his hair slicked back and his smile just as practiced as it had been when he’d run for class president so it would look good on his college applications.
“Ryleigh.” He nodded, but his smile slipped when his eyes met mine.
Every awful thing he’d done in high school went through my head. He’d been two years behind me and never pulled any of his bullshit when I’d been around, but I’d seen more than a few freshmen in tears after an encounter with him. I’d made sure that he’d known better than to mess with London, and he’d steered clear. The guy was a bully, and though Ryleigh said he’d changed, I wasn’t so sure. People like that didn’t just change their nature.
“Nice to see you, Chuck.” I gave him a little wink and drew Ryleigh against me, hooking my hand around her waist. She fit just right along my side, her heels putting her head right at my shoulder. Damn, even her hair smelled great, like strawberries and something sweet.
“You, too, Caspian,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing on the splay of my fingers at Ryleigh’s side.
Ryleigh shifted nervously.
“Let’s grab some air,” I whispered in her ear, low enough that Chuck couldn’t hear what I’d said.
She nodded, and I made our excuses to my friends, ushering her through one of the large sets of French doors toward the back of the restaurant and onto a deck full of empty tables.
She sucked in her first full breath the second the doors closed behind us. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” My stomach twisted at the obvious discomfort she was in. “He’s still a douche, by the way.”
She rolled her eyes and made her way across the deck, leaning on the railing. I followed and looked out over the lake. The afternoon sun blasted us from above, and a sculpture along the edge of the water caught the light, transforming it into dozens of colors as it refracted through the glasswork at the edge of delicate metal rotors that moved with the wind. I’d never seen anything quite like it.
“You like it?” Ryleigh asked, following my gaze to the sculpture.
“I do. It’s beautiful.”
“It’s made from all recycled materials,” she said with a soft smile. “I made it my junior year in college.”