Icebound by Meredith Trapp EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author:Meredith Trapp
- Language: English
- Genre: Sports Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
RHODE
“If you don’t tell me to stop, I’m going to kiss you in three seconds.”
“What the—” I start, but her mouth crashes into my face, teeth
knocking against mine.
Three seconds?
Pretty sure that was two. I recoil, but the woman latches onto me like an
overenthusiastic rookie.
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“You taste so good,” she slurs with half-lidded eyes. “Like minty mint
mojito leaves.”
I’ve been drinking nonalcoholic beer all night, so there’s no way that’s
true. This stranger tastes like she took a bath in a gas-station Merlot. I gag.
If there’s one thing that gives me an awful hangover, it’s red wine, and I
can’t let my performance suffer. The media’s already talking about my
retirement, so I’m steering clear of alcohol this season.
Maybe forever.
Her fingers tangle in my hair. “I like your lips. So soft. You must use
lots of ChapStick.”
I try to say something, but her tongue slithers into my mouth. What
made her think she could march up and kiss me?
Yeah, sure, in my twenties, I would’ve been hauling her over my
shoulder, but now I’m ready to get down on one knee for a woman.
Well, not any woman—the right one.
My fists tighten, but I’m not going to be a dick about this because the
last thing I need is another media scandal. It took years to clean up my
image after Quench pulled my sponsorship, thanks to the Tenerife Incident.
I haven’t been able to find another sponsor since, and now, every
sportscaster’s calling me a fading legend at the ripe old age of thirty-three.
Hell, Brodeur didn’t hang up his skates until his forties.
“Alright, bold move.” I force a grin, gently pushing her back. “How
about we start with names, sweetheart?”
She stumbles, and I try to steady her, but she grabs onto the bar ledge in
her stilettos. There’s no doubt she’s gorgeous with her full lips, but I care
more about what comes out of that mouth.
“I’m so sorry,” she slurs. “I’m drunk. So drunk. Not that it’s an excuse. I
really shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t mean, um…” Her brows pinch.
“You look familiar. Do I know you?”
“Are you a member of the Nashville cross-stitch club?”
“Uh, no?”
“Then, no, I don’t think we’ve met.” I clench my poor excuse for a beer,
wishing I’d worn a feather boa instead of a gray suit tonight, so I’d blend in
with this crowd.
Cruz wanted to come to Wonderbar for his twenty-third birthday, and
once our rookie gets an idea in his head, there’s no changing his mind.
Micah Cruz is more stubborn than my goalie coach, but at least his idea of
fun isn’t making me do butterfly slides on the ice.
This club looks like the Lucky Charms leprechaun fucked a unicorn and
had a rainbow for a baby. It’s full of sweaty bodies grinding on each other.
Men on men.
Women with women.
People kissing people.
It’s a good time, but I’m done with the clubbing scene.
Three years ago, I would’ve been on the dance floor, chugging my
eighth overpriced beer, but that was before my mother looked at me with
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