Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 124494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 498(@250wpm)___ 415(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 498(@250wpm)___ 415(@300wpm)
I remove the tissue paper. Inside is a pink shirt with the phrase Badass Babe Brigade. There are more pink things folded below it. “This is so cute.”
Hemi is all smiles. “Welcome to the Badass Babe Brigade. You’re an official member now.”
“We modified Callie’s shirt, because she’s eight, and we don’t want her wearing swear words.” Hammer winks.
“Smart.” I laugh, but I’m a little choked up. “Thank you. This is really… Thanks.”
Dred gives me a side hug. “Welcome to the Terror family.”
It’s terrifyingly amazing to be part of the group. And in the back of my mind, I wonder if Hammer would be quite so receptive if she knew the truth.
I’m folded into another hug by all the girls before I excuse myself to the ladies’ room. I need a moment, because I’m suddenly overwhelmed. I’m so used to doing everything on my own. People can’t accuse you of stepping on toes or climbing the ladder on the backs of favors if you don’t accept help. I didn’t realize how much I needed this camaraderie, to feel like I belong.
I’m not paying attention when I leave the bathroom and run right into a broad chest. I inhale deeply, breathing in the familiar scent of Roman’s aftershave. His hands curve around my shoulders as if to steady me, and every part of me is electrified by the touch. Other than a handshake, and the occasional puck pass, there’s been no physical contact. I should step back, separate myself from him, say something, do something. But I don’t want to.
I tip my head up, and my heart stutters in my chest, then gallops. There’s concern in his eyes, but the familiar heat is just as present. I need to keep my guard up with him, remain professional, but right now I feel so raw and needy. I long for the connection we shared. Ache for it in a way that’s become uncomfortably familiar lately.
“You looked upset. Are you okay, Lexi?” His thumb sweeps along the exposed skin at the collar of my shirt, sending a shiver down my spine.
It’s a damn wonder I don’t moan at how good it feels to be this close to him again. I long to melt into him. To feel the strength of his arms around me. To not be the one holding everything together.
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” My eyes close, and I will myself to step back, but I can’t. “This is...I shouldn’t—” But even as I say it, I press my hand to his chest and feel his heart hammering just as hard as mine. “I can’t be alone with you.” Because I don’t know if I could control the visceral need I have for him. With him, I belonged somewhere—even if it was brief, for a moment I felt like I was his. And I want that again, so badly.
His tongue drags across his bottom lip. “I'm trying to stay away from you, but I’m losing the battle.” He drops his hands and fists them at his side, eyes full of the same desperate longing that makes my chest ache at what could have been, if I’d made a different choice all those years ago.
But then I wouldn’t have this job.
“You should go,” he says gruffly.
I nod once, but he skims the back of my hand as I pass. Like he can’t help himself. Like his need matches mine and it’s too strong to deny. He might still be angry about me showing back up in his life out of the blue, but we’re both powerless against the pull. I keep walking, though, because screwing up my life isn’t part of the plan.
CHAPTER 11
ROMAN
Ipass the coaching staff as I board the plane for Ottawa. Coach Forrester is sitting in an aisle seat, dressed in a blue suit. Her long hair hangs over her shoulder in her signature braid, notebook open beside her, pen poised between her long fingers, New York’s last game against Ottawa plays on her laptop. It’s angled slightly so that Grace, who is in the seat next to her, can also watch.
“This right here.” She pauses the game as Ottawa takes the shot on net. “What do you see?”
He rubs his chin. “I didn’t read the play correctly.”
“Oh, but I think you did,” she replies. “And the deflection should have worked, but look what happens over here.” Connor leans in as she resumes the game.
Pride makes my chest swell. She’s making real progress with Grace on a game level, and I have confidence that the rest will follow. Especially because she lives and breathes the sport. In the weeks since she joined the Terror, she’s been constantly throwing out new ideas and looking for ways the team can level up.
I take an aisle seat, facing her. Her gaze lifts to mine for a moment before she returns her attention to her screen and she and Connor continue to dissect the game. Her pen finds its way between her lips. And my cock stirs at the combination of her owning her role, leading her players as we discussed, while also looking like my favorite treat.