Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
By the time I hit the bottom of the stairs, I’m already annoyed with myself. My hands shake a little as I crouch in front of the fireplace and stack kindling. The motion grounds me, but it doesn’t stop the images from playing in my head.
Her standing there in nothing but a towel, wet hair clinging to her shoulders, looking at me like she didn’t know whether to slap me or cry.
She was beautiful. I always knew she’d grow into it, but I wasn’t prepared for how beautiful.
And I definitely wasn’t prepared for how badly I wanted to touch more than just the busted dryer stuck to her head.
It’s been a long time since I’ve reacted to a woman like that. Even longer since I let myself feel it. I’ve kept everything buried for so long, I thought maybe those parts of me had shriveled up and died along with my heart.
But Mila’s different. And that pisses me off. I don’t know what to do with it—what to do with her.
I get a wood fire going in the den hearth just as she comes down the stairs, hair brushed, damp and looking no worse for wear after her battle with the dryer. She’s dressed in jeans and a soft pink sweater that makes her look younger than twenty-five. I don’t have to look all that hard to see the fifteen-year-old girl who put her entire life on the line to back me up.
Mila takes the couch without being told and curls up like she belongs there. Like this is normal.
I settle into an adjacent chair, drumming my fingertips on my thighs. I’m normally not prone to nervousness, but Mila’s got me all messed up today. I focus and get down to business, forcing aside images of her naked body.
“I went to see our general manager, Callum Derringer this morning. He was meeting with the team’s owner—”
“Brienne Norcross,” Mila says, and I blink in surprise that she knows her name.
Mila smirks. “Oh, come on… everyone knows who Brienne Norcross is. She’s like the patron saint of badass women.”
I stare at her, a bit slack-jawed.
Mila looks almost disappointed. “You didn’t think I’d just give up on hockey, did you? That I’d stop watching or caring about it?”
“Well,” I hedge, not sure what I was thinking. “Your dad and brother were the driving force behind the sport in your family.”
“And I was a big Wraiths fan and watched your practices and went to all your games. It’s in my blood, same as you, Penn. I never gave up on the sport, and so yeah… I know who Brienne Norcross is. And I’ve also followed your career, obviously.”
I don’t know why that pleases me so much, but once again, I’m forced to put such irrelevant feelings aside.
“At any rate, I told Brienne and Callum everything,” I say, turning my gaze to the fire.
“Everything?”
“Yeah.” I look at her. “From start to finish. The hazing. Nathan’s death. What you and I did to make things right. How our lives turned out so wrong. The threats. You. What happened with McLendon. The teddy bear. All of it.”
She doesn’t respond right away. “And… what did they say?”
“They’re concerned,” I drawl, rubbing at my jaw. “Brienne offered to bring in the police. Offered security.”
Her brows rise slightly. “Let me guess—you turned it down.”
I shrug. “Didn’t want the attention. Don’t want this to turn into a circus if it’s nothing other than some asshole trying to frighten you.”
“Well, I’m scared,” she says quietly, and I regret diminishing that.
“I know, and that’s why I’m going to help you find out who’s doing this and we’ll put a stop to it.”
She gives me a small smile. “Thank you for believing me. And for not discounting it.”
I wave an impatient hand at her, not wanting to fall prey to her gratitude. I don’t want to lapse back into the easy friendship we had all those years ago. I’ve spent a lot of time creating a life where I only count on myself.
Am only responsible to myself.
I will help Mila out, because it also helps me, and that’s the only reason she’s here.
Liar.
I ignore my inner voice and tell her, “I also called McLendon.”
Her eyes widen, her mouth, framed by lips that are way too plump, falling open in shock. “You did what?”
“You heard me just fine,” I say with a grimace. “We didn’t talk long, but I wanted to get a read on him. See if he was involved.”
“And?”
“He seemed clueless about it and even a little concerned on your behalf. Actually put aside his hatred of me—”
“Us,” she clarifies.
“Us,” I agree, “and heard me out. Said he hasn’t talked to Peter or Jace since they got locked up. He told me where Ryan and Colton are—both still in Minnesota. Real estate and gym ownership. He doesn’t think they’d be behind this.”