Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 42889 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42889 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
He turns and gives me a glare that says I’ve almost pushed him too far, like maybe he will have me thrown out of the bar if I keep pushing my luck.
“You don’t know a thing about me,” I say, releasing his sleeve. “Stop acting like I’m some stalker just because I accidentally talked to you in the locker room earlier.”
“And then coincidentally showed up at my favorite bar a few hours later,” Carson says.
“Lots of people are here. You’re not treating them like stalkers,” I say pointedly.
“They aren’t reporters. Reporters are stalkers by default,” Carson replies.
“That’s not true. Not at all!” I protest.
Carson’s lips curve into something that might be a smile. Maybe. It’s hard to tell. He fixes me with his intense stare as he speaks. “Let me explain this to you from my perspective, Bowen Blaze. After years of always dealing with a certain male sports writer, suddenly your newspaper decides to send a beautiful girl into my locker room, who claims to not know the rules about speaking to me, and then when she doesn’t get a story, shows up in that outfit at my bar.” He nods towards me as his eyes rake over my body. “And I’m supposed to think you’re not just out to do whatever it takes to get a story?” He finishes contemptuously.
My mouth drops. Did Carson Slate seriously just call me beautiful? Did that just happen? Because I mean, I don’t hate the way I look or anything, but this room is packed with girls who fill out their clothes a million times better than I do—
“That’s what I thought,” Carson says, and turns again. I grab his sleeve for the second time, but this time my hand actually makes contact with his arm. I can feel his muscles through the fabric, the way the curve and fall and rise beneath my fingers. I take a breath, trying to quell the desire to drag my fingers back and forth.
“Look, I’ll admit that I don’t know anything about sports,” say, and now my voice is quivering despite having to shout to be heard. “But the truth is, I didn’t come here to try and seduce you into talking to me.”
He smirks. “Right.”
“However, you’re here and I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t at least try—“
He cuts me off. “I. Don’t. Talk. To. Reporters,” Carson says firmly, glowering at me in a way that tells me this whole thing was most definitely a bad idea. I swallow, keep my head up, and don’t look away. Carson clearly expected me too; after a long bout of eye contact, he shakes his head and takes a steadying breath. “If I let you give me your contact info, will you stop grabbing my arm?” he says. “Then you can tell everyone you tried to do your job.”
“Promise,” I say, and again, I think I see something that might be a smile on Carson’s lips. He hands me his phone and I dial my number into it, call myself, then hang up. He goes to take the cell phone back, but I resist, adding myself as a contact instead of a nameless number. “So you know I’m not actually named Bowen Blaze,” I explain.
“I know your name, Astrid,” he says. “
My heart flutters in my chest at the sound of my name on his lips.
“Oh,” I say, surprised that he remembered it. He looks a little offended that I thought he might not have.
“Got it,” he says, taking the phone back and pocketing it. “Well. Have a nice time here with your…friend.” He points with his chin toward Arianna and Luca, who are still deep into their make out session.
“Should I tell her to steer clear of him?” I ask, unable to look away from them.
It’s like driving by a car wreck, I can’t seem to stop staring.
“Luca? Nah. He’s decent. Doesn’t really get serious with anyone, so if she’s after a boyfriend, she should look elsewhere,” Carson says. “Though Reign isn’t exactly a place for couples to hang out. Does your boyfriend know you’re here?”
I startle. “Boyfriend? I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Interesting,” Carson says.
“Interesting how?” I dare to ask.
Carson chuckles darkly. “Just figured you’d have cornered someone and insist they date you. Seems to be your M.O.”
“Seems to be working for me,” I answer, raising an eyebrow.
“Alright, Astrid Tyler Bowen Blaze. I’ve got your info now,” he says. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see what I do with it.” He gives me a single, long, devastatingly beautiful look before walking away.
Arianna, Jess and I make it out of Reign before one o’clock in the morning, after Luca has vanished and we’re all more than a little tipsy.
“I can’t believe you and Luca. That was an interesting choice,” I say, playfully shoving at Arianna.