Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 54721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
It’s Simone’s Kryptonite. She cannot stand to have her ribs touched, and she screeches the minute I start wiggling them against her.
Lauren is freed and Boone pulls her away from us. I latch onto Simone’s upper arm, hauling her up and grabbing her purse off the floor. I start moving her through the crowd. She doesn’t hesitate to let me guide the way until she sees the exit door looming and tries to put on the brakes.
“I’m not leaving.”
“Yes, you are,” I reply, pushing her along with ease.
When we reach outside, she tries to jerk away from me. “You can’t just throw me out of here.”
“I’m not throwing you out. I’m taking you home.”
“But I don’t want to go home. I was having fun hanging out with my girls.”
“Yeah, well, that was a shit show of embarrassment. I doubt they’ll want you back again.”
I expected that to piss her off but instead, she falls silent.
“Where’s your car?” I ask, still refusing to give up my hold on her. Not sure I trust her not to bolt across the parking lot to head back inside.
“Over there,” she says with a nod.
“Give me the keys.”
Without a fight, she reaches into her cross-body bag and hands them over. I unlock the doors remotely and escort her to the passenger side. She slides in sullenly and offers me a glare as I close the door.
She doesn’t say a word to me as we drive to my house and just as we’re pulling into a parallel spot out front, her phone rings. She nabs it from her purse and connects the call. Has to be one of her newfound female hockey friends. Her end of the conversation has my teeth grinding.
“Hey,” she says softly into the phone with a brief pause before she says, “I’m fine.” Another pause. “I’m positive. I’m good. He’s making me go home.”
I shoot her a glare but she’s got her focus out the passenger window.
“I know. I’m sorry. I was really looking forward to hanging out with you tonight.”
Guilt smacks me hard in the face and that pisses me off. I have nothing to feel guilty about. Simone made an ass of herself and the best thing was to remove her from the scene.
To be honest… I wanted to leave too. I didn’t feel comfortable with her being there, not because I had intended to talk or flirt with other women. But I didn’t like it that I’d told my teammates we were separated and divorcing and there she was, acting like we were together.
Sort of.
So fucking confusing.
We exit the car and I lock it, following Simone up the steps as she continues her conversation. “I didn’t mean to lose my shit like that.” Pause… listens to whoever is on the other end, and then she chuckles as I unlock the door. “You’d do the same thing, so don’t pretend otherwise.”
Jesus… how well does she know these ladies? She’s only been friends with them for like a whole day. What in the hell did they talk about last night?
Simone sighs as I toss the keys on the table. I normally would head straight to my bedroom and lock myself away, but I’m far too curious to hear the rest of this conversation.
Walking into the kitchen, Simone opens the fridge and pulls out a bottle of water. She holds her phone between her shoulder and ear as she listens to the other woman.
The minx has the nerve to shoot me a disapproving glare. I scowl right back, leaning against the counter and crossing my arms over my chest. I make no pretense that I’m doing anything but eavesdropping.
Simone paces back and forth, quietly listening before snorting at whatever’s said to her. “I’m thinking it’s not such a good idea for me to go to team events where Van might be looking to hook up with another woman. I can’t handle it.”
“I wasn’t looking to hook up with anyone,” I snarl as I push off the counter, pissed she’s maligning my character to one of my teammates’ significant others.
“Didn’t look that way to me,” she shoots back. “It was embarrassing the way you were flirting with her.”
“Embarrassing?” I exclaim, advancing on her. “I’m not the one who assaulted another person tonight.”
“It’s your fault that I was in that position,” she yells, then seems to remember someone’s on the other line as her voice lowers. “I’m so sorry, Brienne. I need to disconnect now and have a serious conversation with my husband.”
Jesus Christ… that was my boss checking in on my wife, worried that I had—what? Hurt her?
Simone disconnects, setting her phone on the table, and I let her have it. “I cannot believe you’d fucking talk about our personal shit with Brienne Norcross. Are you trying to get me fired?”
“Well, what was she supposed to do when you manhandled me out of Mario’s? She was concerned about me since I’m a hockey wife.”