The Boyfriend Goal (Love and Hockey #1) Read Online Lauren Blakely

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Forbidden, Funny, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Love and Hockey Series by Lauren Blakely
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Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
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“No. Another one. That was just my friend Maeve’s place. The woman I talked to at the show?”

“Right. I guess I figured you were living with her,” I admit.

“I get that. You would have no reason to think I wasn’t. Anyway, I had a short-term rental, but the landlord sold it at the last minute so I turned to Christian for help, and well…”

I manage a smile I don’t entirely feel. “Here we are,” I finish for her.

“Here we are,” she echoes, then takes another bite of her veggie bowl.

I try not to linger on watching her eat. Even though I really like her mouth. Picture her pretty lips as she said she wanted to objectify me five nights ago and…yeah, things are gonna be real hard with her in my house.

I wipe my mouth with a napkin and take a drink of my water. I’m not even sure what to say next. I should say I’m sorry I didn’t tell her what I did for a living, but neither one of us was very forthcoming about details that night. At the time it was deliberate. We only gave as much info as we wanted to. She didn’t even come back to my place. And in retrospect now, it’s clear what the other night was—and what it wasn’t.

It wasn’t the start of a new romance, like I foolishly had hoped when I woke up. It wasn’t the beginning of our dating season, like I’d tricked myself into believing this week and not only because she’s my team captain’s little sister. But because she meant what she said that night—she wanted one night and one night only.

I pat the note I’d planned to leave with the scarf, making sure it’s safe and sound in my pocket. It is. It won’t ever see the light of day.

Then I draw a deep breath and do the right thing—I move on. “You're good with this, Josie? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, but I’m truly happy to have you living with me,” I say, meaning it since I hate the idea of her out there in a dangerous neighborhood when I have the tools to help her. “For as long as you need.”

Her blue eyes are etched with gratitude as she asks, “Are you sure?”

She sounds so vulnerable. So worried. I feel like a dick for having been, well, a dick tonight. “Of course. I volunteered. I’m happy to help.” But I’m really going to sound like a dick when I say the next thing. Still, I have to say it. We need to lay down the rules. “Guess it’s a good thing that night was a one-and-done.”

I cringe at the way that sounds all casual and cool. Like I’m a playboy when I’m not.

“Totally,” she says quickly, sitting up straighter as she smiles.

Way to punch me in the gut, Josie.

“Right?” I say with a big laugh. A goddamn gregarious one. “And obviously, what happened has to stay between us.”

“Oh my god, clearly,” she says, agreeing easily, like we’re totally sweeping the other night under the rug together.

“Look, it’s a dumb rule. Like Everly said. But it exists for a reason—the good of the team,” I admit honestly. “You need to go to war every night with these guys. You need to trust your teammates, and if you’re sleeping with their sisters, and things go sideways with that, then…”

She nods vehemently. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

That’s the thing. I don’t need to convince her about why this golden rule exists—for the good of the team. I don’t need to win her over to it since she’s already on board. It’s like Sunday night never happened. I definitely don’t need to convince her.

She adds enthusiastically, “Especially since we’re roomies now and it’s just a bad idea to—” But she swallows whatever she was going to say—sleep with your roomie? Date your roomie?

I don’t even know, so I nod, because whatever she was going to say I’m sure I agree with. “Yes. Exactly. The roomie rule.”

“And we’ll follow it,” she adds.

“We absolutely will.”

We finish eating, and rather than ask her out for another night, I’m asking a more surreal question: “Want to see your new room?”

“I do,” she says, then adds with a smile, “roomie!”

She says it brightly, like that’s all she wants to be. That’s going to have to be fine with me.

13

I’M A PRICK

Josie

Wesley parks outside Maeve’s place so I can get my things. “Be right back,” I say, cheery and upbeat.

I’m done with my brief bad mood over dinner. That was rude of me anyway. There’s no need to be sullen about Wesley not telling me he chased pucks for a living the night we met. Not when he has the thing I need most—a place to live in comfortably for the next three months. And dammit, I’m going to be the best roomie ever, just like I try to be the best second-born child ever.


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