Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 101758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“I’ll be back sooner or later,” Xander says stiffly. “This is Ivy. My girlfriend.”
The woman’s eyes go round, and she swallows hard before offering me a fake smile.
“Oh, hello. I’m Bridget. So lovely to meet you.”
“Pleasure,” I reply with a nod.
“Well, I should just—” She leaves without finishing the sentence.
“So, just how many of your—”
“Don’t even finish that question,” Xander mutters to me, and I smirk at him.
How many of his past hookups are here tonight?
“A warning would have been nice.” I shrug and snatch a fresh glass of champagne from a server. “But it’s fine.”
“Ivy—”
“Hendrix!”
“How are you holdin’ up, honey?” Britney asks as Xander is swept up in another conversation about the season and the fact that he’s not playing in it.
I hate this for him.
“I’m fine.” I grin at Brit, and she clinks her glass to mine. “It’s a lot of people.”
“No kidding. Hey, I really do want to introduce you to a few of the other girls, and I promise they’re all nice.” She waits for me to nod and then taps Xander on the shoulder. “I’m stealing her for a few, but she’ll be back.”
He drops his gaze to mine, a line forming between his eyebrows. “You good, Red?”
“I’m great. Go ahead and chat, and I’ll be back.”
He nods, and I follow Britney to the other side of the room, where a group of women, of all ages, sizes, ethnicities, are gathered at a table.
“Okay, everyone, this is Ivy Bensen. She’s Xander’s girlfriend.”
Britney lifts an eyebrow at me, as if asking if it’s okay to say that, and I nod.
“Hi.” I wave at everyone and notice they all smile at me.
“Finally,” one of the women says as she reaches over to shake my hand. “I’m Hana, and I’ve been dying to meet you since the game the other night. You two are adorable together.”
“We’re so happy for Hendrix,” another woman says. “You guys seem so sweet together. I’m Tabitha, and I’m going to add you to the WAG group text.”
She’s already pulled her phone out of her purse and is tapping on her screen.
“What’s your number?”
I blink quickly, surprised. “Just like that?”
“Xander doesn’t date,” Brit says. “Ever. He’s not a monk, but he always seemed to be allergic to commitment. So the fact that he’s introducing you to everyone, and doing press with you, and everything else? You’re in, babe.”
“Amen,” Hana says with a nod. “Also, don’t let the puck bunnies worry you.”
“Honestly, they don’t.” I’m surprised to find that I mean that with my whole heart. “He’s pretty smitten with me, and I’ve been in love with him since I was fifteen, so . . .” I shrug, and they all smile at me.
After a little while of getting to know this group, exchanging numbers, and verifying that I am, in fact, part of the group text, Brit and I make our way back to where our men are.
“See? I wouldn’t steer you wrong,” Brit says as we join our guys.
I can hear that the conversation is much of the same, just with new people. No one actually asks Xander how he is. Not just regarding the knee but in general. No Hey, how have you been? or anything that would resemble a friendly chat.
It sounds . . . predatory.
And the longer I listen to it, the more it fucking pisses me off.
“You’re quiet,” Xander says as he lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. We’re in the car on the way back to his place.
“I’m just processing,” I reply.
But that’s only part of the truth.
I’m so irritated.
And proud. So fucking proud because before the night was out, the charity raised over five million dollars for the children’s hospital, and that’s a huge fucking deal. I couldn’t have been happier to sit by his side all night because what he and Cooper accomplish with this every year is astounding.
We’re still quiet when we pull to a stop at our building, and Xander helps me out of the car and inside to the elevator. Once the doors close, I step out of my shoes, but before I can pick them up, Xander does it for me.
“How are your feet?” he asks with a half smile.
“They’ve been better.” I groan as I wiggle my toes. “But the shoes are pretty.”
Finally, the elevator opens, and Xander leads me to his door, unlocks and opens it, and we walk inside.
I’m so freaking keyed up.
I stride to the windows and look outside, and when I turn around, I see that Xander has shed his jacket and is rolling his sleeves.
“Talk to me,” he says seriously. “You hated it. You hate me. What the fuck is going on in your head?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t hate it, and I could never hate you. I’m so damn proud of you. The whole thing was beautiful and fun, and I can’t believe how much money you raised. It’s awesome.”