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 here I thought nothing could make this evening any more awkward.
“Huhhh,” DeLuca says slowly. “When’s the last time they…?”
“Dunno,” Chase says, still holding the elevator open. “Couple months?”
“Right on schedule, then.” DeLuca sets the beer down inside his apartment. “You better come over tonight, big man. Either that or charge your noise-canceling headphones.” He nods toward Tremaine’s door and chuckles.
“Good plan.” Chase steps into the elevator and beckons to me.
Snapping out of my haze, I follow him inside. The doors slide closed, and I’m far too aware of how small this space is. It’s as if Eric Tremaine left a haze of sexual tension behind in this tiny space.
The car seems to descend at half speed, while Chase and I both shift our weight awkwardly and clear our throats.
When the doors open into the lobby, I practically skip out of there. But Chase catches up with me in time to hold open the front door.
“Thanks,” I say stiffly. He always used to do that when we were together. It’s one of the things that set him apart from the other boys I’d met. “My apartment is just on Eighth and Twenty-First. I wasn’t lying about the five-minute walk.”
“I’m sure you weren’t,” he says mildly. But he shakes his head. “Christ, I’m an idiot. Maybe you aren’t even heading home, though. I didn’t think.”
“What? Where else would I go?” I wrap my coat a little more tightly around myself.
He sighs. “Anywhere? This is Manhattan. I’m sure you have a life. Maybe you’re headed to Highlights for a drink with your bartender friend.”
I let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, I wish I’d never met him.”
“Why? Did he do something?” Chase growls.
“You were there, genius! He called me to get your drunk ass out of the bar, and I ended up enraging a fan and endangering your multimillion-dollar paycheck.”
“Oh, that.” He sighs.
“It’s my fault, though. You know why I gave the bartender my number?”
“Because you have a new thing for beards?”
I glance at Chase’s clean-shaven face and cackle. If it weren’t such a bonkers idea, I’d almost think he’s jealous. “No, it’s worse than that. I got to talking to him, and he told me that you and your buddies go in there a lot. Since you weren’t returning my emails, I was kind of desperate to reach out to you. So I asked him if he’d consider alerting me if you came into the bar.”
Chase turns to me with a blue-eyed look of disbelief.
“I know, it’s a little stalkerish. He didn’t like the idea any more than you do. He said he’d take my number and maybe pass it on to you if he saw you. But then, well…” I just let the rest of that lie, because we both know what happened.
Chase clears his throat. “Sorry. I should have returned your messages.”
“I wish you had,” I say brightly. “A million dollars is an expensive lesson. But we’re going to get it all back, right? You’re going to make social media swoon, and the PR department is going to get off both our backs. And while we’re making wishes, every single player is going to show up for my master class, so I don’t look like an idiot, either.”
We turn onto Eighth, which means I’m almost home. “They’ll show,” Chase says. “Players know that coaching sessions aren’t optional. Otherwise you can be fined.”
“Sure,” I agree quietly. As if fining them were a reasonable option for me. “This is it.” I pause in front of my sketchy little building, where my apartment is two flights up over a laundromat. I sweep my arm in a dramatic gesture, as if I’m finishing a free skate. “Home sweet home. It smells like dryer sheets all the time, but the rent is low.”
Chase frowns up at the building and then steps up to my narrow little front door, testing the knob with his hand. It doesn’t open, because it’s locked, but it rattles a little. “This doesn’t seem very secure. Maybe you should call…” He squints at the label on the door. “McManus Management and tell them your lock needs replacing.”
“Sure thing,” I say, as if I haven’t had that same thought. Daily. All I have to do is poke the key at the door and it pops open for me. “We can’t all afford a penthouse.”
But the joke doesn’t land, and he frowns at me. “I know that, Zoe. Believe me.”
“Sorry,” I whisper. “I’m not trying to throw shade on your fancy bachelor pad. You earned it fair and square.”
He turns his head back toward Twentieth Street, as if he could see his apartment from here. “Maybe it’s dumb, but I wanted you to see it. It’s a great situation I found myself in. Lucky to be there.”
My heart gives a little squeeze, and I hear myself blurt out, “Did you know, Chase?”