AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“And,princess, maybe I’ll bring the nail polish.” He clicked his tongue, lifted one of his giant feet. “I think my toes would look good in the Rush colors.”
Joel retched—and fuck me if he didn’t look sexy even while he was doingthat.
One month.
I’d missed him.
I was pathetic, lusting after a man who didn’t like me.
But, more importantly, I needed to get the hell out of here before my dad finished up his phone call.
“Or maybe it might give me a chance to see those feet beneath those slippers”—Fox brought his fingers up to his lips and chef kissed—“I’d bet they’re gorgeous.”
Sure. Mine were more like Hobbit-feet—as wide as they were long and with hairy toes that I had to shave.
Yup. I was a catch.
That was probably why Joel had looked at me like—
Right. I needed to end this.
I’d had enough lectures for the day.
I’d had enough feeling like shit for the day.
And I’d definitely had enough of being in the proximity of hockey players.
OfJoel.
“Don’t you have a practice to go to?” I asked pointedly.
Fox sidled closer. “Want to watch, princess?” A coy flutter of his eyelashes as he leaned in and tugged at my hair again, his tone so silky that it was ridiculous…and he knew it, if that twinkle in his eyes was any indication. “I’ll have you know that I’mreallygood with my stick.”
“Dude,” Joel muttered.
I didn’t get offended with the blatant innuendo, and I certainly wasn’t upset. Instead…
I was amused.
So much so that I laughed again, twice in as many minutes, and…it felt damned good because I hadn’t done enough of that in the last weeks. Definitely not without a bitter edge to it, without it feeling forced or painful. This laughter that Fox had given me was natural and after too much time spent stressing and worrying and too many tears leaking from my eyes late at night, on that lumpy ass couch, it felt great.
This was…me.
It was laughing in the face of a man who thought his shit didn’t stink, who was beyond confident and that bearing bled into each and every cell in his body, and who also didn’t give a damn that his lines were cheesy.
Because he liked that he’d made me laugh, even at his own expense.
“There she is,” Fox murmured, tugging at my hair again.
“What?” I batted at his hand, knocking it away, and stepped back.
“Nothing,” he said. Then, just as abruptly as he’d taken over the conversation with his ridiculous nicknames and terrible flirting, he left it, turning and walking away.
Fox was a strange, strange man.
My gaze flicked to the side.
Upand to the side.
