Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Right in half.
More tears come pouring out, and my chest tightens with anxiety that I’m having this meltdown.
At work.
In front of Bodie.
“I’m a fucking mess,” I wail loudly, and then my face is mashed into Bodie’s sweaty chest because his arms are around me. I take in a deep breath, appreciate the male sweat along with his strength for just a moment, and then pull my head back so I can speak. “My knife-throwing skills are for shit. I can only hit the nut sack, and that will put my teammates in jeopardy. Sure, a knife to the balls will drop someone, but it’s not a kill shot and sometimes I’ll need a kill shot. And Sal… he’s a douche. And I think he’s on steroids, which makes him a bigger douche, and he has no fucking right to talk about my period, which I no longer have because I’m pregnant. Knocked up. I’m going to get fat, and it’s going to fucking hurt so bad when I give birth. And Bodie… did you know that these hormones cause zits? I’m breaking out on my chin, and I haven’t had fucking acne since I was sixteen and—”
My face is mashed back into his chest with his big hand cupping my head. I feel his lips press to the top of my head, and he rocks me slightly back and forth. For a glorious few minutes, I accept his strength. I burrow into him and revel in the cocoon of his arms wrapped around me. My tears dry up, and my chest loosens slightly.
But that moment of respite fades as I take in the sounds around me. Lockers being closed, and the dull murmur of voices.
My head snaps up, and I push slightly away from Bodie to look around. There are three other people here in various stages of undress. Ice prickles down my spine as I realize… Bodie hadn’t wrapped me in a tight hug with my face pressed to his chest to comfort me. He’d tried to stop my tirade, which had included bemoaning the fact I’m pregnant even though it was supposed to be a secret.
“Jesus Christ,” I murmur, and my head drops in shame over my own stupidity. Tears form in my eyes again when I realize the cat is out of the bag, and I feel tremendously sorry for myself. That thin thread of control I had regained from Bodie’s strength is starting to slip, and I’m afraid I might scream in frustration.
My body tightens up defensively, waiting for Bodie to offer me solace again. If he does, I think it might break me completely.
Instead, I jolt and my head jerks up to look at him in surprise when he says, “You need to suck it up, Hart.”
His voice is low.
Calm.
Assured.
His expression is neutral without any condemnation over my tantrum.
“Excuse me?” I say through the hoarse buildup of emotion in my throat. My eyes dry up like a sponge was pressed to the corners.
“Suck up the taunts from guys like Sal,” he says in a commanding tone that’s still so low only I can hear it. “If you can’t suck it up, stay away from the locker room and gym until your hormones cool down. Or come to me. You can let it out on me. At the very least, I’ll fuck it out of you.”
Many women would be offended by his blasé, cold attitude. But honestly… it’s exactly what I needed to reorient myself.
If Bodie had touched me in sympathy or tried to comfort me again, I’d have probably gone ape shit.
He knew.
He absolutely fucking knew what I needed. I needed him to tell me to be strong. Just before that, I needed him to hug me, and he knew that, too.
He gave me what I needed both times without me even asking for it.
Bodie’s fingers come under my chin, forcing me to look up at him. He steps in just slightly and murmurs, “You come to me. You got it?”
I give him a slight nod.
“I’ve got your back, Rachel,” he says softly. “Always.”
I want to cry again, but I don’t.
Instead, I marvel at something that’s uncurling from deep within my chest.
Never once since I fucked Bodie or found out I was pregnant had I ever considered developing feelings for him. I saw this as an arrangement. A way for me to take responsibility for my poor choices when it came to safe sex.
It never occurred to me that Bodie could provoke something inside of me.
But those words.
I’ve got your back, Rachel. Always.
I have no clue what Bodie is to me, but he is most definitely not just a sperm donor or casual fuck anymore.
CHAPTER 9
Bodie
“Olson manages to get a stick on the puck, kicks it out, and Fabritis pulls it free. Across to Samuelson and… he scores! Garrett Samuelson over the right shoulder of Bertrand to put the Cold Fury up four to two.”