Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
“Darcy,” he says. “Wait.”
But that only makes it worse. If his teammates couldn’t see well enough in the dark to know who they were listening to, they sure as hell know now.
I turn my back and run.
When Zoe enters our shared room an hour later, I’m sitting on the bed in silence, googling “rental cars, Lake Placid, New York,” and holding a piece of toilet paper to my brow bone. And when I drop it, she lets out a little eep of surprise.
“Oh God! What happened to your face? And your knee. Oh my God.”
“It looks worse than it is,” I say stiffly. “There was a branch in the woods…” The same one that Eric had held out of the way for me? It had smacked me in the face as I made my hasty departure from the lakeside.
And then? I tripped over the branch on the trail and went splat into the gravel, too, skinning my knee like a toddler.
“Oh, honey,” Zoe says with real anguish.
“It looks worse than it is,” I repeat, and then I squint at her. “Wait. Does my face look that bad? Or are they gossiping already?”
She winces. “I wouldn’t call it gossip. More like concern.”
“Concern about what?” I demand, sliding off the bed. This is a complete disaster. My number one goal was making sure that the team—and the Legends management—don’t see me as the kind of employee who fools around with the players.
But then I did something colossally stupid, and I can only guess what they’ll all be discussing on the five-hour bus ride home tomorrow.
“Why are you holding your arm like that?” Zoe asks.
I look down at my left arm, which I’m clutching against my body. “I fell on it when I skinned my knee. It’s fine.”
She takes a slow breath. Then she grabs her handbag off the dresser and beckons. “Come on. You’re coming with me.”
“Where?”
“To find the team doctor.” She leaves you idiot off that sentence, although it’s implied.
“I’m studying.”
She lunges toward the bed and grabs my accounting textbook, tucking it under her arm. “Now, Darcy. Right now.”
Knowing she isn’t likely to back down, I follow her out.
Chapter 41
Shouldn’t Give Me the Ick
Eric
Chase’s penthouse apartment buzzes with the kind of post-practice energy that comes from having three professional athletes lazing around one living room. The terrace doors are thrown open to let in the summer air, and protein shakes sit sweating on every available surface.
DeLuca is doing sit-ups with his feet wedged under the couch, his breathing steady despite carrying on a conversation. “So what exactly is your hesitation?” he asks as his head bobs into view again. “This hotel thing is exactly the kind of sponsorship you always wanted.”
“Yeah, and I bet Darcy would want you to take it,” Merritt says, sprawled in the oversized armchair. “Wouldn’t she, baby?”
Zoe puts her espresso cup under the machine and hits the button. “That sounds like Darcy,” she says noncommittally.
“It would be helpful if I could talk to her about it,” I say, directing the comment pointedly in Zoe’s direction.
“I bet,” she says with a shrug that offers no help at all.
The problem is that Darcy isn’t currently accepting my calls. It’s exam time, she’d replied to some of my earlier anguished texts. I’m sorry, I have to focus on school for a bit.
That was a few days ago, and I’d been determined to give her the space she asked for. The problem is that I need her to weigh in on this sponsorship thing. I already had so many questions for her, and now I have more.
Will it bother her if I take this thing?
Is she still mad at me for that awkward moment beside the lake?
And why hasn’t she been coming in to work this week? Is she avoiding me that hard? Or am I making this about me when it really isn’t?
Ugh. I’m a wreck. The team is starting to wonder why I’ve held an unprecedented number of office hours, just waiting for her to come back.
Every time I glance toward her desk, though, there’s been a temp sitting there. The woman flips her hair at me every time I look up.
This is the hell I’ve been trapped in since the moment my teammates materialized in the middle of our heart-to-heart conversation. I haven’t seen Darcy since, and Zoe won’t give me anything more than, “She’s embarrassed, but she also has to focus on school right now.”
And I refuse to be a jerk about it. I’m not that guy.
The problem is that last night I got a message from Mr. Randolph. Let’s discuss our future collaboration, the message had said. I have a contract for you. Lunch tomorrow?
“The captain needs captaining,” DeLuca observes, switching to bicycle crunches. “I kind of dig it.”
“Never thought I’d see the day,” Merritt agrees. “And over a woman, no less.”