Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 81248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“Now that we’ve established my shortcomings …” I say dryly.
“How do you know those things don’t turn me on?” he asks.
“Even if they did, you’ve already told me you don’t have standards, so that’s not exactly reassuring.”
West lets his eyes trail down my body, and it takes me way too long to realize he’s shamelessly checking me out. It’s … different. Even when I’ve dated, most of my boyfriends have been almost as high-strung as I am—when we check people out, we’re subtle about it, damn it.
“Okay,” he says. “Flirting. Date. And we’ve been together for …”
“A year?”
“Ah, so you locked me down almost immediately after I came home? You move quickly.”
“You’re the one who pointed out how irresistible you are. Getting to you first was just smart of me.”
He smiles again, and it covers all the hurt he’s trying to hide.
Then his phone beeps from inside his pocket.
He immediately pulls it out and lets out a curse. “Shit. I have to go. They’re asking where I am. I don’t feel like we got many of the details we’ll need to pull this off yet.”
“Maybe we adjust the time frame and say it’s new but we’re totally smitten.”
“That works. It will cover our asses if we say the wrong thing.”
I follow him through the living area and let my gaze roam down his back to the firm, round globes of his ass, making sure to look away before we reach the hall. See? Subtle.
“Thanks for coming,” I say, reaching around him to open the door.
A burst of cool air pushes inside, and West tucks his hands into his hoodie pockets as his shoulders pull in tight. “No problem. It’s only one night. We can totally convince them.”
“I’m skeptical that it’s possible when I can barely convince myself of why I’m doing this, but sure.”
He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again. “You know I’m not like them, right? You can be yourself around me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not like the assholes who bullied you.” He sets his jaw. “When I was younger, I was a loudmouth and a bit of a dick sometimes, but I’ve never bullied anyone because I know what it’s like to live in the closet.”
I didn’t even know I needed to hear that until he said it. “Okay.”
West lets his eyes roam again. “For what it’s worth, if I was still doing the cheap hookup thing, I totally would have fucked you.”
“Did you just call me cheap?”
He smirks, and I get that glimpse again of this flirty, charismatic guy behind the pain. And even though the thought makes me feel hot under the collar, I step closer.
It’s not until I’m leaning in that I realize he’s not that much taller than me. “And who says it wouldn’t be the other way around?”
West catches his bottom lip with his teeth, and I track the movement before tearing my gaze back to meet his.
“We’re sharing the one hotel room while we’re away, aren’t we? We could always test it and find out.” His voice is laced with innuendo.
“You’re pushing your luck, jock.”
West’s easy smile lights up again as he backs across my front porch. “Am I not allowed to flirt with my boyfriend?”
“Save it for an audience.”
“Ooh, kinky.”
I glare at him, and he laughs.
“Sorry, sir. I’ll behave.”
And damn if those words don’t shoot straight to my dick.
9
Westly
It’s like I’m a damn teenager again, lying to my parents. Only, this time, I’m the parent, and I’m lying to the kids. And to their sitter. And to Asher.
Mrs. Peterson thinks I’m needed at this away game, Asher thinks I’m going to be at home with the kids, and the kids think I’m going to visit Ezra in Boston.
Because this isn’t going to blow up in my face or anything.
Even though the usual guilt over leaving the kids is eating at me, I have to admit I’m excited to get away from everything.
I’m not a pseudo father to five kids tonight. I’m not a struggling single parent.
I get to be the Westly Dalton, NHL fuckboy, my true self for the first time in over a year. I can’t wait.
I’ll play into the guy everyone expects me to be and make Jasper look good in the process.
I pull up to Jasper’s charming cottage-style home that he maintains a hell of a lot better than I do with the mess that is our place. I stole quick glances the other day when I was here, and I noticed everything had its own spot, like Jasper had thought through where everything belonged.
Seven people in one household is messy, and if I find something in the same spot twice, it’s a goddamn miracle.
I raise my hand to knock, but Jasper opens the door, as if he’s been watching the street for my arrival.
My breath catches at the sight of him. His light brown hair is styled so it sticks up at the front but is still meticulously neat. He’s in casual clothes but has a clear dry-cleaning bag with a navy blue suit and a plain black tie wrapped around the hanger. It will go well with my royal blue suit. It was my favorite suit to wear after games because I’ve been told it shows off my hockey butt. I fully intend on ditching my jacket tonight at some point to show it off for Jasper … I mean Jasper’s idiot school people.