Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Memorizing, actually.
Then she glances up, catches me staring and flushes red. She turns and scurries off into the crowd and I quickly lose sight of her.
“Mission accomplished,” I murmur and then take Farren’s hand. “Come on. It’s safe to go back.”
Atlas and Farren turn and see that the table is empty. “Where did she go?” Atlas wonders.
“My guess… straight to Penn’s house.”
“What?” Farren asks as we reach the table. Her eyes fall to my phone and go wide with shock. “You left Penn’s address up on the screen?”
“Oops,” I say with a sly smile.
“You think that was safe?” she presses with worry. “She could be a serial killer or something.”
“Oh, come on, Miss Criminal Profiler,” I tease. “Did you get evil vibes from that girl?”
“Well…”
“Didn’t you just lecture us on giving women who approach us the benefit of the doubt?”
Farren rolls her eyes. “Okay, I see what you’re doing, calling out my double standard, but you gave her his home address. What if she’s got nefarious intentions?”
“She can’t,” Atlas says, his expression telling me he’s finally getting it. “She gave us her name. She had us call Penn. She said they were friends and he clearly knows her. She’s not going to hurt him.”
“But Penn didn’t want to talk to her,” Farren points out.
“He doesn’t want to talk to anyone,” I counter.
“Fair point,” she replies.
Atlas picks up his beer, takes a sip. “You think she’s part of the puzzle, don’t you?”
“I think she’s tied to Penn’s past, so maybe she’s part of the reason he’s the way he is. My gut says that maybe things need to be stirred up a little.”
Farren looks thoughtful but conflicted. Atlas holds his fist out for me to bump. “Brilliant.”
“I guess we’ll find out.” I turn to Farren, glance down at her nearly empty margarita. “You ready to get out of here?”
She picks up the glass and drains it. “I’m ready.”
“You heading out?” I ask Atlas.
“Nah. Going to hang for a bit. See if I can locate that puck…” His eyes slam into Farren and he flushes red. “I mean… that very nice and outgoing blond hockey fan who wanted our picture.”
Farren chuckles and pats Atlas on the shoulder. “Good boy. You’re learning.”
CHAPTER 24
Farren
The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts through North’s kitchen, and I settle into my chair, cradling a warm mug between my hands. North’s at the stove, flipping pancakes like a pro. He’s only wearing a pair of shorts and it’s hard to concentrate on anything else when all that golden, muscled skin is staring at me.
“I’m telling you,” he says, glancing over his shoulder, “tonight’s game is going to be intense. Carolina’s not just good—they’re relentless.”
I hum in agreement, though I’m only half listening. We woke up not long ago and had sex, but I’m betting he could go again. We could have another repeat of kitchen counter sex.
“Are you even listening to me?” North asks.
I jolt, my eyes drifting from his muscled shoulders to his face. He’s smirking, as if he knows what I was thinking. I clear my throat. “Um… yeah. The game tonight, right?”
“Get your head out of the gutter,” he teases, absolutely knowing what I was thinking. He turns back to the stove. “And you’re sure you want to go to the arena with me? You know I have to get there early… a good four hours before the game even starts.”
“Yeah, I know.” I take a sip of coffee. “But Mazzy’s meeting me there with Bowie Jane and we’re going to head over to the Warhol Museum for a few hours.”
“Gotcha,” he says with a nod, then flips a pancake into the air like it was a hockey puck on the end of his stick. It falls perfectly back onto the griddle. “That will be fun.”
My mind flits back to last night at Mario’s. “I wonder if Mila showed up at Penn’s house.”
“I’m thinking not,” North says with a chuckle. “He would have called and torn me a new one. He’s going to be pissed when it happens.”
“Maybe she decided not to go.”
“Maybe. But it’s out of our hands now.” He turns from the stove with two plates loaded with pancakes and bacon. While I’m a decent cook, North is far superior. Not only that, he loves it and I’d rather be on clean-up duty.
Setting the plates down, he moves in to give me a soft kiss.
I hum again, this time in abject swoon. “There’s something very sexy about a man who cooks.”
“I love cooking for you,” he says, taking the seat adjacent to me.
As we dig into breakfast, North glances up, his fork halfway to his mouth. “What do you want to do tomorrow?”
The guys have Saturday off as they’re heading out early Sunday for a four-day road trip, first to Detroit, then to Columbus. “How about a night in? You’re coming off back-to-back games, and once you guys kick ass tonight, I’m sure we’ll have a late night at Mario’s or Stevie’s. So yeah, let’s just relax tomorrow.”