Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 90009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Callie releases a heavy sigh as she glances toward the front of the bakery. “He’s just always been around. At first, I thought it was a coincidence since we’re so close to the arena. Although lately, I don’t know. Maybe it’s not. But come on, he’s Zane’s friend. They used to be partners in crime.”
Rina tilts her head, her gaze sharpening. “You don’t owe Zane a damn thing. And you have every right to protect your peace. But also? You deserve someone who looks at you like you’re their entire universe.”
Callie exhales, her voice barely above a whisper. “The last thing I want is more drama. Or to get pulled back into that spotlight. That world doesn’t feel like mine anymore.”
“You’ve been through hell and back these last few years,” Sloane says, topping off her mug. “If River isn’t like Zane, maybe it’s okay to stop bracing for impact and just see what’s there.”
“I’m not saying fall into bed with him,” Rina adds. “But Sloane’s right. If he’s trying to prove he’s not like his teammate, maybe give him a little room to do it.”
Callie gives us all a long look, her gaze moving around the table. “You’re kind of ganging up on me right now.”
“You’re right, we are,” I admit, grinning. “But it’s only because we love you.”
“And we want more for you,” Sloane adds. “Someone who treats you like a queen.”
Rina leans back in her chair and swirls her coffee. “Also, someone who could maybe serve as a visual distraction when Zane and his twenty-one-year-old reality-starlet-of-the-week show up at the next Railers event.”
Callie rolls her eyes. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
“Oh, I’m not above a little petty justice,” Rina says cheerfully. “Just imagine the look on Zane’s face if River walked in with you on his arm.”
“You’re terrible,” Callie says with a laugh.
Rina shrugs. “I’m just saying. Maybe he deserves to squirm a little.”
We all fall quiet for a beat, the scent of fresh coffee filling the space around us. Outside, golden leaves swirl in the crisp October breeze, dancing past the bakery window like confetti.
Callie lifts her cup with a sigh. “Okay, fine. If he comes back again… maybe I’ll say more than one word to him.”
Sloane claps her hands. “Progress!”
Rina beams. “That’s definitely a start.”
I sit back and watch my friends laugh, tease, and sip their coffee as the comforting hum of the bakery envelops us. Callie’s smiling now, and for the first time in a while, she looks a little lighter. She deserves someone who sees all of that. Her strength, her softness, and everything in between.
As I glance toward the door where River stood just moments ago, I can’t help but wonder if maybe someone already does.
49
EVELYN
The view from my office never gets old.
The floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the rink where practice is in full swing. Skates carve across the ice, jerseys blur in motion, and the dull thud of pucks slamming into the glass reverberates through the arena like a heartbeat.
I cradle a cup of Earl Grey between my hands, its warmth grounding me as I lean slightly against the window frame.
Steele Sanderson is back in top form. Dominant, focused, and unstoppable. The scandal that once loomed over him like a storm cloud has lifted, replaced by highlight reels of him tearing down the ice and flashing a smile meant for one woman alone.
The interview worked, and the narrative has shifted. The jackals have retreated, at least for now.
Even better than that?
Peak Sportswear came crawling back yesterday with a revised contract in hand.
“Redemption looks good on him,” Rina says from her seat across the room, tapping through emails on her iPad.
I hum in agreement. “He deserves it. And so does Lilah. They’ve handled themselves with more grace than most people twice their age.”
Rina grins. “It doesn’t hurt that their story is straight-up catnip for the media. You should see all the TikToks with engagement theories and baby countdowns. There’s even a fan page dedicated to her wearing his jersey.”
“Oh, please,” I say, smiling despite myself. “Let them live a little first.”
I’m just setting my tea down when I feel the shift in the air. That unmistakable charge that always comes before he enters a room.
I don’t need to turn around to realize who it is.
Hugh Landry.
The scent of his cologne hits me next. Warm amber with undertones of something richer. Something darker. Once upon a time, it was the scent that clung to my sheets after he slipped out of them—setting my pulse racing and my better judgment faltering.
I straighten and glance over my shoulder.
That was a long time ago.
Another lifetime.
He leans against the doorframe, his charcoal suit perfectly tailored to a body that somehow hasn’t aged a day in all the ways that matter. His black hair, streaked now with silver at the temples, is slicked back, and that insufferable glint in his blue eyes is as cocky as ever.