Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“I am a personal man,” I said with a shrug.
Gloria rolled her eyes. “The word you’re looking for is private, Lars. You’re a private man. And I respect that. But you only get a limited amount of privacy when you’re dating one of the biggest celebrities who has ever called St. Louis home, and when you yourself are also a public figure.”
“What do you want from me?” I asked her. “I am in a hurry.”
“A few details about you and Sheridan would be a great help. Just how long you’ve been dating, any upcoming appearances together, and—”
“No.”
Gloria glared at me in silence.
“It is in my contract,” I reminded her. “No PR unless my coaches tell me so.”
“Fine.” She threw her hands up in resignation. “But I’m not the enemy, Lars. I’m here to help. If the time comes that you need help managing media requests, my door will always be open to you.”
I nodded. “I will remember that. I need to go now.”
“Thanks for stopping by.”
I didn’t even need Nash to confirm it for me this time—she was being sarcastic.
“You are welcome,” I said, hustling out the door.
I still had a lot to learn about women, but I knew I’d fucked up by leaving Sheridan’s apartment last night, and I needed to get over there as soon as possible to make it right. I jogged back to the other side of the arena and exited through the team entrance to our private parking lot.
I’d just made it out the door when a guy with a big camera started taking photos of me. I looked over and saw that there were two more guys getting their cameras ready to take photos.
“Lars,” the first photographer called. “How’s Sheridan? How long have you guys been dating?”
I scowled at him, put my head down and ran to my SUV, opening the door with my key fob and getting in quickly. I made it out of the parking lot before any of them caught up to me.
The only attention I wanted to draw was for hockey. And even then, I kept reporters at arm’s length. I wasn’t good at interviews like Wes, Nash, or Drew. I let my performance on the ice speak for itself.
Any photographers looking for information about Sheridan would be in for a rude awakening. What we did was no one’s business but ours.
I looked in my rearview mirror and then did a double take. What the hell? The photographers were following me.
This wouldn’t end well for them.
Chapter Eleven
Sheridan
* * *
The text from Lars saying he was coming over after practice had totally caught me off guard. The bouquet of pink and purple flowers that arrived about an hour later was breathtaking and even more surprising. The knock on the door thirty minutes later had me fighting back a smile despite the shitty morning I’d had.
“Hi,” I said as I opened the door.
“Hello.” Lars looked like breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert, all rolled into a tall, muscular god in a tight black Henley and…gray sweatpants. Sweet Jesus, what was I supposed to do with all of this?
Apparently, let him brush a kiss across my lips and take a Starbucks coffee from him. He was carrying a big bag of food too, so I led him to the kitchen, where he set everything on the counter.
“What are you doing here?” I asked as we unpacked lunch.
“I shouldn’t have left you alone last night,” he said quietly, one hip against the counter.
“No, you shouldn’t have,” I agreed. “But the flowers—and all of this—” I made a sweeping motion with my hand. “Weren’t necessary.”
“I like you,” he said slowly, meeting my eyes. “But I am not good at…this.”
“This? You mean dating?”
He shrugged. “Relationships. Dating has no expectation. This…is different.”
“Well, the media obviously thinks so.”
He grunted. “There were three of them behind me as I drove.”
“You led them here?” My eyes widened in dismay. “I better warn Barney and—”
He was shaking his head. “No! It’s okay. I took them on a chase.”
I paused, cocking my head. “You led them on a wild-goose chase?”
“Yes. I drive to Starbucks, then to get food, then to gas station. At gas station I call nonemergency police number and give them license plates. I told police they were driving erratic. Police arrived. I left.”
I stared at him for a moment and then burst out laughing.
“Oh, you’re good,” I said, getting out two plates.
“Thank you. I do not like them following me. I will tolerate at games, and maybe when we are out because we cannot control public places. But to follow me home? Or to your house? This is not okay.”
“You’re right. And you handled it brilliantly.” I set out plates, utensils, and napkins, along with serving spoons. “This smells delicious.”
“You like Chinese food?”
“Love it.” We settled on stools side by side at the counter and dug in.