Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
“You don’t have to do…” she starts to say. “Never mind, you probably should. If I scratched this car, I’d have to shoot myself.”
“Let’s not get carried away.” I tuck her bags inside, then open the passenger door for her. “Got you a coffee because it’s a long drive.” Four hours if we’re lucky with the traffic.
“Thank you,” she says, giving me a sideways glance. “That was really nice.”
Was it, though? Since my phone call with DeLuca, I’m questioning all my reactions to Darcy. I notice her. A lot. I always have. But she’s a valued team member, and I know better than to notice all her assets, if you know what I mean.
Until now, that is. I think her sexy DM broke my brain. Specifically, the part about my bow tie. As Darcy clicks her seat belt into place, I notice her smooth wrists, and I’m only human. So I picture them with silk wrapped around…
Stop it. I put the car in gear and glide away from the curb. “Hey, Siri?”
“Yes, Captain.”
Darcy snorts. “Really?”
“It’s supposed to be ironic,” I say, but my neck heats anyway. “Siri, get directions to the Blue Button Bay Resort in North Beach, Massachusetts.”
“Getting directions, Captain,” she says.
Darcy giggles.
“I’ll be reprogramming that at my first opportunity.” I raise the windows against the sticky New York City summertime. “Let me know if the AC gets too cold.”
“Yes, Captain,” she says, but it comes out sounding a little breathy. And suddenly my briefs are a little tight.
Seriously, what is my problem? I’ve spent plenty of time in Darcy’s company before and kept my thoughts strictly professional. But then came that damn text, offering to lick me all over. I suppose I’m not completely at fault here. Not that it helps.
My thirsty thoughts are interrupted when a new text pings on my phone. “Can you tell me who that is? Kinda early for the usual group text shenanigans.”
“Sure,” Darcy says. She picks up my phone and takes a peek. “Well, he’s listed as ROOKIE so it might be Weber?”
I crack a smile. “Yup. Until next season starts. Then Weber gets his name in my phone, and some other young dude gets the rookie designation.”
“But what if there’s more than one?” she asks.
“Depends what mood I’m in. Sometimes I go with Thing One and Thing Two. What does he want?”
“The text just says—she’s mad at me again. So mad.”
“Ah.” I sigh. “Okay. I’ll call him later. He’s having woman trouble.”
“And so… he texts you about it on a Saturday morning?”
“Or at four a.m. Or any old time. The kid is struggling with his long-distance relationship. I’ll talk to him when we get to Massachusetts.”
Darcy is quiet.
“What? You think I need to be, like, happily married to be a good listener?”
“Nah. I just didn’t know you were everybody’s emotional support animal.”
“I’m the captain. It’s part of the job.”
“Um, no,” she says quietly. “Making yourself available 24/7 to carry every player’s emotional load is not, in fact, part of the job. The players’ manual is on my desk, Tremaine. I know things.”
I clear my throat. “Yeah, okay. But it helps, you know? If they have someone to turn to who’s always there. They’ll play better if they’re feeling solid. That’s the idea anyway. And then we’ll win the Cup, and I’ll finally get a championship ring. And Porsche will notice me and offer me a sponsorship.”
She laughs. “You already have the Porsche, though.”
“True. Another sponsor, then. Brooks Brothers? I could save a lot of money on suits. Or maybe Blank Street Coffee. God knows I’m their best customer.”
“Who are your sponsors?”
This is embarrassing, but it’s my fault for bringing it up. “Beyond hockey gear, I don’t really have any. Still waiting for that big opportunity. But whatever. I don’t need the money.”
“Huh,” she says. “So I guess it’s a status thing, though? Like, you know you’ve made it when…”
“It’s exactly like that,” I agree. “I’m the captain of a team that’s made the playoffs for three years in a row. I’ve given my whole life to the sport…”
“… And DeLuca’s the one whose face is on a billboard on Seventh Avenue.”
“Right?” It comes out sounding a little more desperate than I would have wished. “My agent suggested I might be too clean-cut for some of the big brands.” I play that sentence back in my head and realize that it’s completely obnoxious. “Cry me a river, right? I can pay for my own coffee.”
“No, this is really interesting from a marketing perspective,” Darcy says slowly. “Sponsors seem to like the notoriety of troublemakers, because their faces have a lot of recognition. But then they sponsor them and pray they don’t get into even more trouble. Look at Chase Merritt.”
“Exactly.” My teammate had a social media dustup early in the season, and all his sponsors got nervous.