Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28593 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 143(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28593 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 143(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
My head, though? Well, it's a little slower to forgive.
"You were at the arena last night for your story," he says after a moment, perhaps realizing I'm not ready to have the conversation he's pushing for. Not yet.
"I told you that's why I was there."
"Thought you were trying to meet Gordon," he mutters.
And there it is. The reason my head is not on board with the rest of me. A scowl overtakes my expression. I drop my hands from around his neck and push against his chest, trying to force him back a step. "Back up, Colter," I demand, my voice shaking.
He steps back, eyeing me like he thinks I might bite.
"I'm not a puck bunny," I growl.
"I never said you were."
"This is the second time you've accused me of being there to hook up with a player." I cross my arms, glaring at him. "Contrary to popular opinion, not every woman on the planet wants to sleep with every hockey player she comes across."
"I wasn't accusing," he says, his voice soft.
I snort.
"I was conjuring up worst-case scenarios because I was jealous as hell, Leia." Those hazel eyes burn me with sincerity. "Contrary to popular belief, not every hockey player sleeps with every woman he comes across." He flashes that smirk at me again. "I don't fuck around either, but that mouth has been driving me crazy since you broke into the locker room last night."
I roll my eyes, softening incrementally. He means it. I'm not sure how I know he does, I just know. He doesn't think I'm a puck bunny. He isn't trying to sleep with me because he thinks that's what I do. And I don't think this is something he does regularly, either.
"I didn't break into the locker room. I had a press pass."
"You were looking for the Stingrays' locker room," he growls, eyes narrowed. "Why? What do they have to do with illegal betting?"
"Maybe nothing. Maybe something. I don't know yet."
"Care to explain?"
"Care to explain why you told my boss you were working on this story with me?" I ask instead of answering.
"Because I am working on it with you." He holds his arms out. "You need an inside man. You got it, Trouble."
"Nope. No way."
He lets his arms fall. "Why the fuck not?"
"I'm trying to fly under the radar, Colter. Having a giant hockey player tagging along is the exact opposite of flying under the radar."
"You think there's illegal betting going on at the arena, right?"
"Something like that," I mutter, eyeing him sideways. And then I huff. "Why would hockey players from other teams meet with a bookie here?"
"Who the fuck was meeting with a bookie?"
"I'm not sure I should say."
"Gordon," he guesses, reading my expression.
"Maybe." I chew on my bottom lip. "Your team has played two games here. I've seen players from both teams meeting with the same bookie before the games. Why would they do that?"
"Gambling addictions? Illegal betting? Match throwing? Could be any number of reasons they'd meet with a bookie." Colter scowls, pacing around my office. It's cramped to begin with thanks to the eight filing cabinets Daniel insists on keeping in here, but it feels even smaller with Colter in here. "You're sure they were meeting with a bookie?"
"They met in an alley behind the arena. I got photos of them exchanging money. And the bookie is Elysa's situationship, Gavin. They were definitely meeting a bookie."
"Situationship?" A ghost of a smile touches Colter's lips.
"She's avoiding him because he's a bookie but hasn't broken up with him. It's a whole complicated thing." I wave away the question. "It doesn't even matter."
"Fuck, you're cute when you ramble."
"Colter!"
He blinks and then rapidly shakes his head like he's trying to clear cobwebs from his brain. Or, knowing what I know about him, it's more like he's trying to clear dirty thoughts from it. "Sorry, Trouble. You start rambling, and I hear the goddamn angels sing."
He's shameless. Truly.
"Oh my God. Please, leave my office." Before I fall in love with you, and you break my heart.
"What about our story?"
"My story, Bossy. It's my story." I step behind him, plant my hands in the center of his back—an hello, muscles—and gently push him across my office.
He balks at the door, spinning around to grab me at the last minute. My plan to kick him out goes up in smoke as his mouth slants down on mine.
"You love kissing me." He breaks away from my mouth to gloat.
"Shut up, Colter." I drag his mouth back down to mine like the greedy, crazy woman he's turned me into.
We end up making out for five full minutes before he pulls back with a groan. His wild hazel eyes meet mine. "That goddamn mouth is dangerous, Trouble." He swipes a thumb along my bottom lip, shaking his head. "You better finish kicking me out before I do something you regret, or we get caught again."