AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Jessa snickered and wagged her eyebrows. “Hopefully she’s too occupied getting tied up, spanked, and railed to notice!”
“Oh my God, stop!” I flushed but laughed, because whenever Owen was around Reid, it was like he was already doing dirty things to her in his mind. And she looked just as guilty.
Or lucky.
A low rumble startled me. Outside on the street, a vintage looking motorcycle pulled to a stop in front of the front picture window. The driver’s face obscured by a black helmet. He paused, and sat back, flicking up the visor.
Piercing eyes, the color of the leaves on the trees up in the hills where I liked to hike when spring arrived stared back. Locked me in place. Seconds ticked by, and Jessa droned on behind me about Reid’s sex life in her usual, filterless way, but I didn’t hear a word she said.
All I saw were his eyes. Hands resting on his thighs, clenched into fists, slowly released.
Fingers snapped in front of my eyes, blocking him momentarily. I batted her hand away, but when I looked atwhere the motorcycle had been moments before, he was gone.
“Earth to Maddie! Happy hour? Tapas?”
“Did you see-” I stopped, because suddenly, I wanted to keep him to myself. Anyway, Jessa would probably make it her mission if I said anything to find the guy so I could ‘get laid’.
“See what?” she asked, grabbing her purse and car keys. “Come on, my treat, because it looks like I’m not getting laid either.”
I laughed lightly, my mind still on the eyes that reminded me of the promises yet to be kept. “You seriously think about sex way too much.”
“If you only knew,” she muttered, ushering me out the door.
CHAPTER 3
SEBASTIAN
Karma is a bitch.
Don’t get me wrong, I saw it coming from a fucking mile away when I walked into the Browns’ head office my last day on the team.
But, fuck, I never saw the twist of fate I was getting screwed with until it hit me like a fucking truck.
Road kill.
When my phone rang as I sat on the couch weeks after that fateful meeting, I almost didn’t answer. As it was, Kellan Horne called twice before I picked up, and only after Ty texted me.
Ty: Asshole. Don’t throw it away because you suck. Answer the fucking phone.
Damn kid was ten years younger than me, coming into the prime of his playing career, and telling me what the fuck to do.
“Lockwood?”
The voice on the other side growled, and it was pretty damn clear Kellan Horne wanted to be talking to anyone but me.
“Horne?” I returned dryly.
“Shut the fuck up while I try to save your career. And if you mess this up for Simmons, I’ll make it my mission to ensure every day of the rest of your miserable life sucks so much that even a fucking Taylor Swift concert won’t cheer your ass up, you understand?”
What the hell was the guy talking about?
I grunted a response, and without missing a beat, Horne continued as if I had never uttered a sound.
“Carolina sent over a contract, and aside from a few minor details, I suggest you sign it if you ever want your hands on a ball again, other than in the park playing catch with yourself. Check your email. Changes were agreed upon ten minutes ago.”
And silence. I pulled the phone away with a glare.
Asshole hung up on me. But I signed the dotted line.
