Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 113072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
“And maybe it’s even bigger than that. Maybe this pizza says I was never mad at you for losing me a job when I was nineteen, because I forgot about you the second I left town. We’re both grown-ups now, after all, even if one of us is a multimillionaire and the other one lives in squalor with credit card debt and an ex-husband who still thinks I owe him something.”
Darcy cringes. And her gaze keeps flipping up to a spot above my shoulder.
Come to think of it, there’s a very specific wall of heat radiating toward my back. And I smell citrusy cologne and leather. “He’s right behind me, isn’t he?”
Chapter 22
There’s a tap on my shoulder, and when I turn my head, there’s Chase in all his glory. Broad shoulders buttoned into a stylish blue dress shirt, thick hair that gleams in the soft Ritz-Carlton lighting, and eyes like the ocean in a travel brochure. “Not a chance,” he says, blue eyes flashing.
“A chance of…?”
“Forgetting about you the second I left town,” he says. “Too much collateral damage. Besides, I got your pizza order right, didn’t I?”
I blink down at the slice in my hand. “That’s right. Thank you for this. And I’m glad to hear there’s not some other Zoe who’s going to punch me for eating her pizza.”
The corners of his mouth quirk. “No, that’s for you. It’s a thank-you for the diagnosis.” He takes a sip of his beer, his handsome face thoughtful. “I apologize for calling it a stupid idea.”
Wow. Is there anything more attractive than a man who’s willing to say he was wrong? “Thank you,” I say quietly. “That means a lot to me. Can you tell if it made a difference? The treatment, I mean. Are you in any pain?”
“I heard you screamed like a little girl,” Darcy pipes up.
Chase gives her a wry smile. “Nonsense. I screamed like a grown woman, at least.” He turns back to me. “Yeah, I think it will make a big difference. It’s hard to describe, but when they made their adjustment, I felt immediate relief.”
“That’s… wow,” I say awkwardly. But I suddenly feel about three inches taller.
“Merritt!” Our conversation is interrupted by Aiden Sharp, who slings a muscular arm around Chase’s shoulder. “How’s your pelvis?”
“Great. And yours?”
Aiden snickers. “I gotta wonder why you didn’t notice the problem sooner. Like—wasn’t your aim at the urinal off?”
I hear chuckles from all around us. O’Connell chimes in. “Yeah, and when you popped a woody, wasn’t it always at, like, five minutes past midnight?” He holds up a hand at an angle, and Darcy puts her face in her hands and giggles.
But Chase is blank-faced, like he’s been hearing this all night. He sips his beer, and even his wrists are hot. It’s just not fair.
“Look!” someone calls. “It’s the woman of the hour!” Steve Sailor worms his way into our circle. “Zoe! Want to see the latest news story from your coaching session with Chase?”
I brace myself. “At this point I’m afraid to ask.”
“Check it out! Top article in sports at The Times!” He gives me an oily smile as he hands me a tablet. The first thing I see on the screen is a photo of me and Chase in the midst of a drill. At least it’s a good shot. The photographer has captured us in sync, our body angles almost perfectly aligned. And neither of us is making a constipated face. Small mercies.
There’s another photo, though—a still frame from that long-ago video. Chase and I are holding an arabesque, each with one arm outstretched, our opposite hands clasped together like lovers.
The headline is “Cutting-Edge Skater Grows Up to School the Hockey Bros.”
I hand it back. “Hello, clichés. But this is what you wanted, right? Something cheery to gobble up the search results.”
“It’s fantastic,” he agrees. “Chase is turning a corner. There’s a lot less chatter about the punch.”
“It wasn’t a punch,” I say irritably.
He shrugs. “Tomato, to-mah-to. My phone is ringing like a Vegas slot machine. And everyone wants to see more of the cute girl in the ‘Wicked Game’ video.”
Oh, please. “I’m glad that video is making your life easier this week. But I’m not here to be a sideshow. I’m here to coach some hockey.”
Sailor just grins. “Being part of the team, Zoe, means doing whatever the team needs most.” He gives me a head-to-toe eye sweep, the way you’d size up a side of beef. “Good work this week. First rate.” Then he slithers away again.
“I hate that man,” Chase murmurs into his beer.
“You know, I’d say it’s mutual,” Darcy muses. “But he likes you a lot more now that you’re internet famous for skating with Zoe. The man hasn’t had this much attention since you and Tremaine both got hat tricks in the same weekend.”