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)
“That’s great,” I say, forcing a smile. Even though I can’t imagine the Legends team without him. “When will you have to decide?”
“Not for a while. I can’t sign with anyone else until July. Bess will use the time to get Sharp’s offer up a bit. He’s lowballing me a little.”
“A little,” I repeat. “Does this mean the bar shove hasn’t tanked your career?”
He takes a slow sip of the coffee and sets the mug down on the bedside table. “Since we’re in our honesty era, it’s only fair to tell you that I never thought it would ruin me.”
My heart leaps. “And your sponsors? They’re staying?”
“Looks like it. IronForm wants to book a new photo shoot, and they wouldn’t do that if they were going to bail.”
“IronForm?”
He grins. “Men’s athletic underwear.”
“You model underwear?” I’m totally googling that the minute I get home. “And that means…” I drain my excellent juice and hand him the glass. “You’re not losing a million dollars?”
Slowly he shakes his head.
And then the other shoe drops. “So why did you say yes to the jamboree? If you didn’t really have to?”
He sets my glass aside and leans back against the headboard. I get a little distracted by his shifting six-pack and the blond hairs coalescing into a trail beneath his navel. “I told you how confused I’ve been since you showed up. This season had been a disaster from the jump. The truth is I just… wanted to skate with you again. I said yes to Steve on impulse.”
“On impulse,” I repeat slowly. “Like that usually ends well.”
He shrugs, causing another delicious ripple across his chest. “I don’t know, Zoe. I’ve never believed that impulse is the devil you think it is. Sometimes it feels like the reason we’re alive.”
The reason we’re alive. Suddenly I can’t stop staring at all his golden skin. “Oh. I never thought of it that way.”
He tips his head to the side, and his blue eyes track me just the way they used to. With love and attention. “I know, Ice Princess. Breaking old habits is hard.”
“Usually,” I agree. But Chase has always been an exception for me. And maybe he still is.
Maybe that’s why I’m able to stretch out a hand and place it on Chase’s chest, my palm over his heart. “I’m glad you said yes,” I whisper.
“Are you?” he whispers back. But I think we’re not talking about the jamboree anymore. His gaze drops to my hand and then returns to my mouth. And he licks his lips.
Fuck it. It feels risky to tip forward and kiss his chest, right over that weird, spidery scar. But I do it, because it feels even riskier not to.
Chase makes a shocked noise in his throat. But a half second later, he wraps his hand around my hair and tugs me upward, until we’re nose to nose. My whole view is a pair of blue eyes that I’ve missed for nearly a decade. Those beautiful eyes dip to my lips for half a second. And then he claims my mouth with one slick motion.
Oh.
Oh damn. I’d forgotten how a kiss from Chase is a whole-body experience. I sink onto his hard chest as his hands draw me in. His knee cocks against my hip, holding me steady, anchoring me in place.
I sigh against his lips and let the next kiss roll over me like a wave. He tastes of orange juice and coffee and being eighteen again. I relax onto his body and let him sweep me out to sea. His fingers coast down my back like they’ve always belonged there. His other hand cups my face, deepening the kiss.
“Jesus Christ,” he whispers against my lips. “You make me crazy. Always have.”
“Same.”
He chuckles, rolling me underneath his body in one smooth motion, spreading me out on his giant bed and then catching my hands in his. Once again, my view is restricted to Caribbean-blue eyes and the rugged face that fills my dreams. “I spent the first week you were in New York wishing you’d leave. I spent the rest of them wanting to rip your clothes off.”
I think about that for a second. “Maybe you should have. Might have made everything easier.”
He groans. Then he tugs at the borrowed sweatshirt. “It’s not too late, right?”
“Never,” I whisper.
A half second later, the Legends shirt leaves my body with a whoosh. Then he lowers his mouth to my throat and engages in some kind of sorcery involving his tongue and a million nerve endings that I didn’t even know I had. When the trail of his kisses dips lower, following the swell of my breasts, I gasp. “Chase.”
“Mmm?” he asks before his tongue does a circle around my nipple.
I shiver with pleasure. “It’s game day.”
“So?” He treats my other breast to the same luxury. “Consider this a warm-up.”