“And you’re calling me right after the shower because…”
“Since I’m out of town and can’t take you on a proper date this week, I figured a video call was the next best thing.” He lifts one sculptedbareshoulder in an easy shrug.
“That doesn’t answer my question,” I say. “And need I remind you that friends don’t go out on dates?”
He rolls his eyes and lets out a huff. “Okay, fine. Since we can’t ‘hang out’”—he uses the fingers of his free hand to do air quotes—“I figured I’d call you instead. And…” He leans in closer to the phone, his lips kicking up on one side. “Friends also don’t drool at one another, but you’re practically salivating at my naked torso.”
“I amnot,” I sputter, my heart lurching into my throat.
Was I? There’s a very high likelihood. But come on. His muscular chest is wide, though his torso tapers down into a taut six-pack. I don’t mean to objectify him, but the hours he spends on the ice are clearly doing wonders for his physique.
He leans back against a headboard, giving me a peek of crisp white sheets as he gets settled. “Mm-hmm.”
“That’s a nasty bruise on your side,” I comment.
“What was that about you not checking me out, baby?” He smirks, though as he ducks, eyeing the injury I pointed out, his caramel-colored eyes widen as if he’s just now noticing it. “Eh, I’ve had worse.”
Hockey player. Duh.
“Oh, you had a game tonight.”
Sophie invited me to meet her at a bar to watch the Bobcats play, but I graciously declined, and we agreed to do drinks next week instead.
“I did indeed.” He chuckles. “Ended about an hour ago.”
“Did you get into a fistfight?”
“This isn’t the MMA, bean, but yeah, I got checked a few times.” The corners of his lips tug up. “We won, too, by the way. If you were curious.”
I roll my eyes at his teasing tone. “That was my next question, but congrats. That’s exciting. The team doesn’t do anything to celebrate?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. We have an early flight tomorrow. Figured I’d chat with you, then read some of my book.”
I arch a brow. “And what book would that be?”
Cole’s cheeks instantly flush. “Alien Lovers of Planet Dexxar.” His voice tilts up at the end, making the answer sound more like a question.
“This is my Super Bowl.” I laugh, bouncing a little on the couch cushion. “Or should I say my Stanley Cup.”
He grins at my hockey reference. “Interstellar relationships? Or making me flustered?”
I shake my head, batting at the strands of hair that have escaped my ponytail and fallen into my face. “No, introducing someone to a new book. It’s a form of therapy for me, I guess.”
“Even if the book is about purple aliens falling in love?”
“You’ve only just started it,” I chastise him with a mock scowl. “You can’t already be judging.”
“I’m not judging,” he promises. He holds up a hand, his middle and pointer finger crossed. “I’m just genuinely curious about how this book has such a big cult following when the plot is so outlandish.”
“That’s the point. No one’s picking it up expecting a Pulitzer Prize winner. They’re reading it to escape. If I’m having a rough day, I don’t want to lose myself in a heavy story. I want something likeAlien Lovers of Planet Dexxar.A book that pulls me out of my own head and makes me forget about the real world, if only for a few hours,” I say. “When people are down, they want comfort. When they’re happy, they want something that amplifies that joy. Books meet you where you are.”
I snap my mouth shut, only for Cole to stare at me.
Now it’s me who flushes. Big time. I break eye contact and nibble on my lower lip as if that’ll turn back time so I can go back and stop myself from word vomiting.
“It’s really damn cute when you go into book mode,” he comments, his eyes soft. “Have you always been such a big reader?”
“Pretty much. I got my first library card at, like, six years old, so I honestly can’t remember a time when books weren’t my constant companion.”
