Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 53034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
Once I have my steak, I scan the small dining room for an open seat.
Talia and Melina are sitting together, smiling and talking. Those two have become tight since Talia started traveling with us. An invisible tug pulls me over to their table.
“You mind, ladies?” I ask.
Talia tips her chin, her hazel eyes meeting mine. I study them for just a second, trying to decipher something. Anything.
Our pregame stretching routine has become a ritual I look forward to. Since she started traveling with us, we haven’t lost a single game. She froze me out for a few days after I mentioned Kyle, but she’s since warmed back up.
I’m not sure how tonight will be for her, though, because we’re playing Vancouver—Kyle’s team.
“Sit down, Beaumont,” Melina says. “We’re talking about our periods.”
I put my tray down across from Talia’s and sit, my lips pulling up in a grin. “I’ve actually got major cramps today, they’re the worst.”
“You have no idea,” Talia says lightly.
“I always figured they were like shit cramps.”
Both women scoff.
“Yeah, no,” Melina says. “You can’t shit out your period and make the cramps go away.”
“How’s the ankle?” Talia asks.
I tweaked my right ankle a couple days ago and she’s been wrapping it. Sometimes her fingertips will trail over my bare skin for just a little bit while she’s doing it, and just that contact makes my dick twitch with awareness.
The more I’m around her, the more I want to be around her. She’s usually cryptic, careful with what she says and how she says it. But occasionally, I get glances at the fire that seems to always be simmering beneath the surface.
“Ankle’s good. You haven’t been watching Severance without me, have you?”
Her lips quirk. “Nope. But we need to watch the next one today, so work it into your busy schedule.”
“Hey, tomorrow’s an off day. We could always just binge the rest of it.”
Melina clears her throat—probably reminding me how dangerous it would be to spend time off with Turner’s daughter. I can’t help it, though.
“Maybe,” Talia says.
She’s nibbling on an omelet, and I wonder if she ate anything else before I got her. I don’t like her digs at herself over her weight and appearance.
“You want some steak?” I offer.
“No, thanks.”
“Hey, can I sit?” our backup goalie Preston Smith asks.
“Of course,” Melina says.
My gaze locks onto Talia’s again, and I think I see a note of playfulness there.
“Does anyone have time to stretch me before the game?” Preston asks Melina.
“Talia might be able to.”
A jab of aggravation hits me out of nowhere. Preston looks like a fucking male model. He’s been in fashion magazines, and a photo of him getting out of a pool wearing nothing but underwear went viral not long ago, with women thirsting over him.
“She’ll be busy stretching me,” I say, my tone authoritative.
There’s a moment of awkward silence before Talia says, “You can join us, though. It’s not like it’s a private thing.”
She’s looking at me as she says it. I play it cool, spending more time than I need to cutting my next bite of steak.
“You cool with that?” Preston asks me.
“Yeah, whatever.”
I’m caught off guard by my reaction to Talia telling him it was okay. I’ve been in a groove since our first stretching session together. She’s my lucky charm, and I don’t want to share her.
It’s not like I can say that, though. I have to pretend I don’t care.
“Trunk twists,” Talia says, avoiding my eyes. “Control your movements and get full range of motion.”
The closer we get to puck drop, the more she’s shut down. Preston is oblivious, standing a few feet away from me and following along with our stretching routine.
She doesn’t even quirk a smile over Isaac’s fart yoga today. That’s unlike her.
It’s because of Macintire. She probably hasn’t had to look at his ugly fucking face since they broke up, and she knows he’ll be out on the ice tonight.
Usually we have light conversation while we stretch, but not tonight. She’s all business.
“Hey, Talia, I gave Suki your number,” Carter says as he walks past us. “Prepare yourself, she wants you to go out with her and Mara and Lainey. You get those three together and it’s a lot.”
There’s affection in his tone. Carter’s wife is the counterbalance to his gruffness. And he’s actually not that gruff once you get to know him. He’s just not a smiler.
“You need to meet their pig,” I say.
Talia arches her brows in question. “Their what now?”
“They have a pet pig. Darling.”
Her lips shift into an almost smile. “Darling?”
“One of their girls named him.”
“I love that. Is he one of those micro pigs?”
Carter’s note of laughter from an exercise bike along the wall is unamused. “If three hundred and fifty-two pounds is micro, then yeah.”
Talia’s eyes shift to mine, alight now. “For real?”