Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 33433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
I refuse to spend my time outside the studio dealing with a more insidious version of the same thing. And that's exactly what Harlan Ward is—insidious. Intense and beautiful and so full of shit, I feel like an idiot for falling for it.
It's embarrassing how much time I spent talking to him, telling him things I don't tell anyone. It's ridiculous how many times I've gotten myself off, thinking about him.
Clearly, my vagina's judgment can't be trusted.
She has terrible taste.
I just don't understand the game he's been playing. He could have anyone. Why spend four months pretending to be into me? Who has that kind of time to waste, just to get laid?
Harlan, apparently.
If he stares any harder, I'm going to set him on fire with the candle currently flickering in the middle of the table. I turn slightly in my chair, trying to block him out. It's like trying to block out the sun, though.
He's too damn big to ignore. Apparently, he also refuses to be ignored.
"Sophie."
I take a giant bite of my salad, pretending he didn't speak.
"Sophie," he says again, practically growling this time.
"How's the wedding planning going?" I ask Hattie, raising my voice so he knows I don't want to hear anything he has to say.
She turns to me with wide eyes. "Next time, I'm eloping," she says, completely serious.
"Next time?" Sidney narrows his eyes at her, a displeased growl rumbling in his throat. "There won't be a next time, Hattie baby."
"There might be, Cranky Pants," she says, leaning into him with a bright smile. "Maybe I want to marry you five times."
He dips his head to kiss her, and I glance away…only to find Tye kissing Vanessa across the table. Directly beside them, my other brother, Austin, is whispering God only knows what in his fiancée, Serena's ear. One of Sidney's teammates and his fiancée are seated on Harlan's other side.
Jesus. If ever there were a sign from God that I need to get my life together, this is it. Harlan and I are the only single people at this end of the table…and I'd, literally, rather die on the slopes than deal with him right now.
He has other ideas.
"Quit ignoring me, Sophie." His massive hand covers mine on the table, trapping mine beneath his palm. The way he says my name pins me more than his grip ever could.
I try to yank my hand away, but his fingers just tighten. I glance up and meet those impossible denim eyes. There's an entire storm system moving through them.
The delusional part of my brain wonders what it'd feel like for that system to break wide open right on top of me. The less irrational, angrier part hopes he drowns in the rain.
"Go talk to one of your real athlete friends," I say, yanking my hand free as I jerk to my feet. The chair scrapes back so fast it nearly topples.
Conversation at the table stalls, everyone turning to look at me. I feel my brothers watching intently, trying to get a read on the situation. One of these days, they might actually believe it when I say I don't need them to rescue me.
I can do that all on my own. I'm not helpless, and I never have been. But they still try to swoop in and save me like I haven't been doing it by myself for years. I love them for caring, but sometimes, a girl just needs to don a little lipstick and kick ass herself. This is definitely one of those times.
I drop my napkin onto my unfinished food and look at Hattie and Sidney. "I'm calling it a night. See you in the morning."
I get as far as the coat rack in the lobby before a massive hand lands on my elbow.
I whirl, already winding up for a punch, but Harlan is faster. He blocks the punch, backing me up against the wall like it's the easiest thing in the world.
"Are you kidding me right now?" I growl, yanking my hands free of his grip. "Get off me."
"Keep ignoring me, and I'm going to spank your pretty ass in front of all these people, ballerina," he growls, caging me in with his arms.
"Try it," I snap, shoving my palms into his chest. He doesn't budge, not even an inch. It's honestly humiliating how little impact I have on his big ass body. Aren't hockey players supposed to be lean and fast? Why is this one built like a damn mountain? "I'll drop you just like I did today."
"Yeah?" he smirks, leaning in until I feel his breath against my ear. "You really think you can take me, baby?"
"Any day of the week," I snarl, even as my stupid heart pounds like a drum. Can I take him? Probably not. But I know just enough self-defense to make sure his pride takes a few hits before I lose. And right now, I'm just mad enough to take the L just to make a point.