Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 50801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
I can almost forget about the worries that have been eating at me all season—my contract is up for renegotiation and the most recent injury I suffered from the game two nights ago. Not career-ending, not even putting me on IR, but it was close. So close that I had to be checked out for ten minutes before they let me back on the ice.
How many is that now?
Too many to fucking count, hence my worry.
It could fuck up my renegotiation, which is the last thing I need. I'm good at two things—hockey first, working out second. I don't know what I’ll do if I don’t have those two things.
But that’s for regular Baylor Torrington to worry about. Tonight, I want to be somebody else, if only for tonight.
A beautiful woman dressed as Catwoman bumps into me as I weave through the dance floor. I catch her before she can topple over, righting her on her high heels.
“Sorry about that,” she calls up to me, giggling as she moves to the music. “But since you're here,” she continues, spinning around and dancing against me as if we've been doing this all night.
My hands immediately fall to her hips, knowing that voice anywhere. The sound that’s haunted me for well over a year now. No costume could ever hide her from me.
Even though Hadley fucking Stokehill is the last person I should be dreaming about, let alone dancing with.
But since I'm not technically being myself tonight, what harm can it do?
One dance leads to another, and I find myself unable to tear my eyes off her as she spins around in my embrace, running her hands over the vest I wear, smiling up at me and easily falling into conversation as if she knows exactly who I am.
I, not for the first time, wonder if there’s another Ghost walking around here, maybe somebody she'd been flirting with before and thinks I’m him.
An irrational stab of jealousy pricks my chest, and I do my best to shove the shit away. This costume and new identity has turned me into a baser instincts kind of guy. I have zero right to be jealous of anyone Hadley gives her attention to. She deserves to have fun. Deserves to be treated like a queen, really. If she wasn’t my best friend’s little sister, I’d volunteer for the role.
“I'm starting to think you're getting me mixed up with someone else,” I say as she rolls her hips against me, causing a groan to rumble in my chest as I hold her tighter. “I don’t think I’m who you think I am.”
“Oh, no,” she counters. “I’m certain you're getting me mixed up with someone else.”
I laugh, dipping her to the beat before bringing her up flush against me.
She's wearing one of the more covering masks that comes with the Catwoman costume, but does she really think I’d mistake her for anyone else? I guess it’s dark in here, the music loud and drinks flowing, but it’s not a possibility.
“Do you honestly think that a mask and some tight fabric could hide you from me, Hadley?”
Those bright blue eyes flare, shock radiating for all of five seconds before she continues the dance we've been doing for the last hour.
“Impressive,” she says, rolling her hips against me, reaching up on her tiptoes to bring her mouth an inch from the mask covering my face. “Baylor.”
I tense against her, the sound of my name on her tongue a little too alluring.
How the hell does she know it’s me?
The mask not only hides my entire face, but my eyes too. She can’t see that I'm staring down at her with unrestrained need.
That same need that’s tormented me for far too long, but I've seen Nash chase away guys from her more than enough to know that he'd kill me if he knew it was me dancing with her like this.
“Do you want to stop dancing with me now?” she asks, trying to sound brave, but I can hear the doubt that creeps into her voice now that our identities are out in the open.
I should let her go.
I should take my hands off of her and walk straight out of this club, take a cold shower, and remind myself of all the reasons she's off limits.