Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 58992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Carter knows this. He splits time between Los Angeles, his hometown and where his family still lives, and San Francisco, where he plays for the Renegades. He’s in town since his team doesn’t have practice today, but he’ll be heading back later this week as we get ready for the regular season to start.
“I feel for you,” my buddy says, then claps my shoulder. “I mean it. Even with my two rings, I still feel for you.”
“Jackass,” I mutter, then we trash talk the rest of the way to the Santa Monica Pier. When we get there, we head toward Ocean Avenue, where I spot a familiar figure at a café at the edge of the beach. He sits facing our direction, arms crossed loosely, almost as if he’s been expecting us.
I slow my pace, pointing. “Dude, is that our agent?” What the hell is Maddox doing here?
“Whoa. He knows everything,” Carter whispers in admiration. “Maddox knew exactly where we’d be on a Monday morning. He’s a fucking genius.”
I’ll say. The man is ridiculously good at his job and never stops working. Hence, his tracking us down at seven-thirty. The guy is the picture of cool and calm. Impeccably dressed in slacks and a tailored shirt, he sips a cup of espresso as he waits and smiles in satisfaction as I reach him and stop a few paces away.
“I thought I might find you here when you didn’t answer your phone,” he tells me.
I grab for my cell in my pocket, spotting the missed call. Weird. I didn’t think I turned off the sound. “Guess I put it on silent,” I say.
Carter smacks my arm. “You missed a call from me last night too.”
I shoot him a sneaky look. “I wouldn’t say I missed it.” Then I turn to Maddox again. “Good to see you.”
Maddox gives an easy shrug. “Fortunately, I knew how to find you.”
“I’m a creature of habit,” I say with a smile, eager to find out why he’s parachuted into my morning workout.
Carter thumps our agent on the back. “So, Super Agent, are you here to see him or are you stopping in to see your favorite client while he’s in town?”
“I love all my children equally,” Maddox teases.
“You don’t have to say that just to make Carter feel better,” I say, then I cut to the chase. “What’s the story?” I point my thumb at my buddy. “Unless it’s top secret, Carter can stay. I’ll probably tell him anyway.”
Carter cups the side of his mouth. “News flash—Drew got laid last night.”
“Hey now. It was more than sex. I have a date with her.” I
don’t want to sound like a playboy.
Maddox just grins, shaking his head like we’re a couple of clowns. Which, admittedly, we are. “Glad you met someone you like, Drew.” His smile disappears, and he’s suddenly serious. “I have big news, Drew. Now, let’s talk.”
6
ONE HORCHATA LATTE FOR ME
Brooke
I yank open the kitchen cupboard in Cara’s apartment on Thursday morning and stare at the nearly bare shelves.
“How do you not have coffee?” I whine.
“There’s this thing called coffee shops,” she calls breezily from the other room. Her shoes clack against the tiles as she marches into the kitchen, her blonde hair swishing in a high ponytail. “You go in, order your drink, and voila. The barista serves it.”
“But you need coffee for meeeee,” I say, more dramatic than I need to be. But hell, I need to be.
“Tell you what. I’ll splurge and take you out for a coffee on the way to class. How’s that?” she asks.
“I can’t let you do that. The fact you offered, though, is proof I don’t deserve you.” I drag my hands through my hair, exasperated.
She comes up behind me. Rubs my shoulder. “Hello? Earth to Brooke. Coffee is not cause for drama. I may be broke, but I can afford a coffee. But maybe it’s not coffee you want?”
I want to go back in time to Sunday and not give Drew my number. Then I wouldn’t be wondering why I haven’t heard from him.
Not a single text since he left my home. Since we made a date for tonight. His silence wouldn’t be a problem except that on Monday, my boss told me he needed me to attend this charity event that went until seven p.m.
I texted Drew asking to meet me later than we’d planned, but he never replied. That was three days ago. We’re supposed to meet tonight.
He’s ghosted me, I know it.
Why, universe, why did he keep up the ruse all of Sunday night?
Oh, right. He wanted to get laid.
I take a deep breath. Breathe in. Breathe out. Let go of my frustration. “I think I woke up on the wrong side of the week,” I tell my sister.
“It’s that guy, right?” Cara asks as she grabs her phone from the counter and tucks it into the back pocket of her skinny jeans.