Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 98846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
“Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine. It’s a private meeting, and you’ve been working so hard, I figured you wouldn’t mind sleeping in.”
We’re usually out of the house by seven and home sometime after five. I don’t mind getting up early, but sleeping in midweek would be amazing. And Seattle doesn’t have a game tomorrow night, only practice, which means Kingston doesn’t need to be in bed early.
He’s not much of a nighthawk, always dropping me off at home by nine forty-five so he can get to bed by ten thirty, which is apparently late for him. He’s an interesting guy with some funny quirks, but I like them. And him.
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” I kiss him on the cheek. “Thanks, Dad. We’ll have a movie night next week. You can even pick the movie.”
“It’s a date.” He smiles, but it looks wistful. “Have fun tonight with King, and be safe.”
“Kingston’s quite literally the king of safe. He drives like he’s taking the learner’s permit test every time.”
“I know. If there was ever a guy who might stand a chance at deserving you, it’s him.”
“You have blinders on when it comes to me, Dad, and I love you for it.” My phone buzzes in my pocket, the tone telling me it’s my boyfriend messaging me.
“I love you back, kiddo.” My heart squeezes when he turns toward the house and his smile turns sad in the reflection in the windows.
He really needs a girlfriend.
I pull my phone out of my purse and check my messages. Kingston usually favors nice restaurants. The kind where I get to dress up and look pretty, and he wears a tie and jacket. Usually he’s a polo and khakis guy, but I find the whole suit jacket and tie thing works well for him. Pretty much every single state of dress works for him, actually.
However, tonight I would like to take control of this date. The regular season has already started. Kingston is a saint at away games. He never tries to sneak into my room late at night to fool around, out of respect for my dad and his presence next door, and because he takes his job seriously. And I’m fully on board with this, because I also respect my dad and his role, and the fact that Kingston needs to be rested before a game.
But I’m tired of only getting to second base, like I’m in high school all over again. I want sexually explosive Kingston to come out and play. I figure in order to make that happen, I need to push a few of his buttons and break his ironclad resolve.
So as soon as I’m in the door, I head for the bathroom and strip down so I can take care of business. While I get my personal grooming supplies out, I call Kingston.
“Why aren’t I looking at your beautiful face right now?”
“Because I’m getting ready for you, and I’d prefer it if you didn’t see my predate face.”
“You’re effortlessly stunning, Queenie, inside and out.”
My stomach does that fluttery thing, and I grin at the compliment. “Well, you’re going to be looking at me for hours tonight, so I’m trying to maintain an air of elusiveness.”
“I’m counting down the minutes.” If those words came out of anyone’s mouth other than Kingston’s, it would sound like a line, but when he says things like that, I believe he’s being genuine. “I made reservations for seven thirty at a place not far from you, but I can definitely move it up if you want me to come get you sooner.”
I check the time. If I’m quick about getting ready, I’ll have plenty of time to thwart his plan. “Seven thirty is perfect. Since it’s close to me, you’ll be here around ten past?”
“Oh, yeah, sure, okay. Ten past seven works.” I love that he sounds disappointed.
“Great. See you then. Can’t wait!” I make a kiss sound and wait for him to say bye before I hang up.
Twenty minutes later I’m freshly showered, groomed, and dressed for the occasion. The Uber ride takes less than twenty minutes, which is good, because King is always on time, if not early, so I arrive on his doorstep just before six forty, which is plenty of time to circumvent his picking me up.
In the short weeks since we started dating, I haven’t been back to Kingston’s house again. Mostly he picks me up at my place, but he always stops in to talk to my dad first, which often leads to long conversations about hockey-related stuff. It’s sweet, but it also means that Kingston has been cockblocking us ever since he officially asked me to be his girlfriend.
I’m about done with that.
I’ve hit the top stair on the porch when his door swings open. He lives in a big house in a nice neighborhood. In fact, a lot of his teammates live around here, based on the addresses we have on file. The front porch is decorated with pretty plants, two chairs, and a small table. I have a feeling they’re more for decoration than use; this isn’t the kind of neighborhood where people hang out on their front porch and drink coffee in the morning.