Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
When I get home, I make myself something to eat and climb into bed with my laptop and glasses. I flip open the television while I check Facebook and then Instagram. Then I notice I have an email alert.
From: Max Horton
To: Princess Pain In My Ass
Subject: Your Royal Request
Here is what you need.
I’ve shared my calendar with you. Work with that.
Regards,
Princess Max Horton
I smile at his name. I smile that he answered, but most of all I smile because round one goes to me. Bitch.
Chapter Four
Max
I go to the fridge to get myself another bottle of water, pausing the television on Game of Thrones. I don’t even have time to open the bottle before I hear my phone ping.
Making my way to the couch where my laptop is out with my schedule, I see it’s from Allison.
To: Biggest Pain in my ASS
From: Just Allison
Subject: Thank You
Thank you for sending me your royal commitment. I will work around them. Please let me know if you change it at any time.
Signed,
Allison Grant
AKA Royal Ball Buster
I smile and groan at the same time. Fucking chick is getting under my skin. The last time I saw Allison Grant she was just turning seventeen, with her tight jeans and sassy mouth. Now here she is, older and better. I shake my head, trying my fucking hardest not to have her in my thoughts. No way in fuck does she belong here. Her skin is soft like an angel’s, her blue eyes, untainted, pure. That is the only word that comes to my mind when I think of her.
I don’t bother answering her email. Just leave it alone, I tell myself. Instead, I grab my own computer, going over the things I have planned for this month. A couple of photo shoots with my sponsors. A couple trips to the hospital to volunteer with Denise. I’m about to send my agent an email when I get another one from Allison.
To: New York Stingers
From: Allison Grant
Subject: Public Relations Opportunities.
Hi All,
I will be sharing with you the schedule I have planned for the season. As many of you know, this schedule will or can change according to the team’s needs. I will also be scheduling more meet and greet opportunities as the year progresses. If there are any other opportunities that you think we should be doing, please feel free to let me know and I’ll do my best.
Our first away game will be September 17. As it is just an exhibition game, I know many of you will be not there, so I have arranged for some of the loyal hockey fans to come in and meet the team.
Have a great night.
Allison
I close my computer before I’m tempted to answer her, getting up and shutting off the television. I walk to my bedroom, turning everything else off, and diving in. Setting my alarm for six, I plan to work out before the masses come in. It seems everyone is in now.
By the time I walk into the gym at six-fifteen the next morning, I’ve already been up for an hour. Fucking cat sat on my face. I have to admit it’s the most action I got in the last six months. I’m over the girls, the puck bunnies, the meaningless sex. I shake my head and punch in my code to the door. I head to the locker room, my earphones already on. Tossing my backpack into my cube, I make my way around the logo in the middle of the room. Stepping on it will get you fined five grand. It also curses you. Not one to tempt fate, I walk around it. I’m wearing my shorts with my black socks up to my knees. My gray T-shirt clings to me. My baseball cap on backward, with my earphones blasting Kendrick Lamar, when I turn the corner to the gym, I see the lights already on. Wondering who the hell is in already, I stop in my tracks when I see exactly who is there. Allison.
What the fuck? She’s there in her fucking outfit that molds her fucking body, leaving little to the imagination. Her tight yoga pants stretch across her ass as she does jump squats. Her matching yoga top shows off her abs, which are defined. Her B cups bounce just a touch as she kicks up. Her hair is high on top of her head in a ponytail. The back of her outfit is green with crisscrosses.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I rip my earphones off as soon as she lets out a screech. Then she holds her chest when she sees it’s me.
“Jesus Christ, Max, you scared the shit out of me.” She bends down to grab her water bottle.
“Doesn’t answer my question, Allison. What the fuck are you doing here?”