Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
“Bring her up again and I’ll introduce you to the fucking floor,” Sig said, training a deadly look on the younger man. “And she’s not my stepsister.”
“Yet,” Burgess reminded him while pulling a pair of briefs up beneath the towel, then dropping it completely.
“Yet,” Sig repeated with forced calm. “Teammates’ families are off-limits, rookie, unless express permission is given. You don’t have it now and you won’t have it ever.”
“You just said she isn’t family yet,” Mailer pointed out.
“I know what the fuck I said,” Sig snapped.
Mailer raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”
Sig turned an incredulous look on Burgess. “I’m going to kill these fucking kids.”
Burgess bit back a smile. “You were exactly like them your first year in the league.”
“Nope. Uh-uh.”
“Yup. Worse, even.” Burgess finished fastening the button of his jeans and tipped his head toward the exit, dropping his voice to a low rumble. “We should get out of here before they realize their dumbass sweatshirts are missing.”
“I’m right behind you.”
Simultaneously, they snapped their lockers shut, throwing their duffels over one shoulder and sailing toward the side entrance of the room, which emptied into the team parking lot. “Say hi to your mom for me, Corrigan,” Burgess called over his shoulder, smirking over the resulting wave of laughter throughout the locker room.
“Too old, my ass,” Sig muttered, following him outside into the September dusk. They happened to be parked beside each other and they wordlessly got to loading their gear into the rear cab of their SUVs. “Listen, uh . . . speaking of Chloe,” Sig said after tossing his bag into the interior and shutting the door. “I hear she didn’t quite pull off the whole cheap room ruse. Apparently, Tallulah saw through it pretty fast.”
Burgess experienced a twinge of pride that he really had no right to feel. “I should have known she would. She’s smart as hell.”
Sig shook his head. “She must have chewed your ass out.”
“Started that way, but she’s moving in tonight.”
“No shit?”
Burgess confirmed with a monosyllable, still in shock that it was happening after the rocky start they’d had.
“Chloe says she’s a jaw-dropper, B. You interested in this girl as more than a nanny?”
“I’m not answering that.”
“Why not?”
Burgess gave him an exasperated look. “Are we really going to stand here and talk about girls like a couple of rookies?”
“As long as we don’t use the phrase ‘smash that,’ we get to live.”
“Still no.”
“I’ll get it out of you eventually.”
Burgess stomped to the driver’s side of his SUV and hauled open the door. “You won’t.”
A grin spread across Sig’s mouth. “Do I spy a twinkle in your eye, Cap?”
He snatched his shades off the dashboard where he’d left them, put them on, and slammed the door on Sig’s knowing face—just in time for the side door of the locker room to fly open, two rookies in towels bursting onto the pavement in nothing but bare feet and towels.
“Dude, give them back,” Mailer shouted, jabbing a finger at Sig, who dove into his ancient truck at the speed of light, laughing as he went. And two very mature grown-up men drove out of the parking lot blaring their horns and waving Orgasm Donor sweatshirts out their windows. In other words, just a typical day of hockey practice.
“Late to my first day of class,” Tallulah muttered, while hustling down the empty hallway. “Awesome.”
She rounded the corner into the lab, giving a tight smile when every pair of bored, jaded grad student eyes landed on her. There was one seat left open beside a guy about her age that she recognized from orientation. Glasses. Commiserating smile. Slouched and grouched, like any self-respecting career student.
Thankfully, the seat was also in the back and she slid into it without the professor commenting, quietly taking a notebook and pen out of her backpack while waving at some of the other friendly faces she’d met a couple days prior.
That morning, she’d been forced to drop her belongings off at Burgess’s apartment, because check-out time at her hotel had been 11:00. She wasn’t about to rack up charges for another day, even if the detour had ultimately made her late. While at the penthouse she now called home, they’d compared Tallulah’s schedule and Lissa’s, finding there was blessed little conflict. The custody agreement Burgess had with his wife was pretty amicable and straightforward. Lissa spent the weekdays at his place, weekends with Mom and the fiancé, allowing for adjustments due to special occasions, vacations, or illness.
For instance, today was Friday, but Lissa’s mother had a late business meeting, so she’d pick up Lissa in the morning, instead of tonight. Burgess had explained they didn’t want Lissa to feel like a business arrangement, and Tallulah couldn’t agree more. They were doing it right.
What is his ex like? Tallulah wondered, fully ignoring the professor as he flipped through the syllabus, reading it word for word. More interestingly, what had Burgess and his ex been like together? Really, it was none of her business at all. And she totally hadn’t Googled Burgess Abraham Wife on the bus ride to campus. A few pictures had come up of them at the ESPY Awards a handful of years ago, Burgess rocking a tux, his ex-wife looking happy enough to be there.