Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
I grab my wallet and phone, shove them into the pockets of my jeans that I haven’t taken off yet, and follow. The elevator doors are sliding closed as I round the corner, so instead of waiting for the next one, I take the stairs. We’re only five floors up, and by the time I get down there, Oskar is already out on the street.
He really is behaving like a child. The brazen way he walked out and assumed I wouldn’t follow …
Admiring his spunk—and unfortunately, I’m not talking about cum in this instance—probably isn’t the right reaction.
I’m beginning to see where my guys were going wrong though.
They let him get to them.
It’ll be harder for him to do that with me because I’ve dealt with narcissists and liars before. Not that Oskar falls into either category, but he pushes the same buttons in me. I’m starting to work out that Oskar is calculated about what he does. I don’t know much about him, but I’ve picked up enough to tell he’ll push me until he works out how much I can take. Like his own way of finding out what I’m made of. He’s a lot smarter than people give him credit for.
Unluckily for him, I’m ninety percent stubborn grit and ambition.
Oskar doesn’t jump into a car, which is helpful because it would be easy to lose him in traffic. I follow at a distance until we’re a few streets from the hotel and standing outside a gay bar. The bouncer clearly recognizes him and lets him right in, which unfortunately gives me the first hitch in my plans.
Damn it.
If I wait in line, who knows how much trouble Oskar will get into while I’m out here. But I don’t really see another way around it. Maybe if I lurk in the alley, I’ll get lucky …
Oskar’s not dumb enough to pull the same move twice.
Well, shit. I guess I’m going low and praying the odds are on my side.
Gathering up my nerves, I approach the beefy bouncer who’s not currently letting anyone in—not a great sign—and paste on my most professional smile.
“Good evening.” I hold out my hand, which goes ignored. “My name’s Lane Pierce. I’m with San Jose’s public relations department, and I’ve been sent to retrieve one of our players who just went inside.”
He grunts. Fucking grunts.
Resisting the urge to tell this guy he’s a walking stereotype, I hitch my smile wider. “Oskar Voyjik. He arrived a couple of minutes ago.”
“Haven’t seen him,” the guy snarls.
I almost laugh. There’s no way I’m letting Oskar win this thing because of a guy with a god complex. “Would a Boston jersey signed by Ezra Palaszczuk and Anton Hayes help you remember?”
I have no clue how I’m going to get my hands on one, but San Jose management said anything, and if that means shipping some random man a signed jersey, they’ll do it.
His face twitches from its grumpy mask. Bingo. “I don’t know you,” he says.
I have never retrieved my work ID faster. The man squints at it like he’s trying to puzzle out whether it’s a fake or not, and considering I doubt he’s been around a lot of people who work for the San Jose NHL team, I have no idea how he’s supposed to figure it out.
“The whole team,” he says.
“Pardon?”
“I want a Diedrich jersey signed by the whole team.”
Of course he does. “Deal.”
“Got a business card?”
I quickly pull one out, and he swaps my ID for it. “My office line, email, and cell is on there. Send me your address, and I’ll get it organized.” I hope.
He steps aside, and I rush past before he can change his mind.
It’s impossible to know whether my life has reached an all-time low as I step into the crowded club and look around. The odds of finding Oskar here aren’t in my favor, and it’s only my determination not to let him win that has me pushing my way through the throng of people.
As soon as we’re back, I’m asking management what the law is around me handcuffing Oskar to my side at all moments except games and practice. Surely if it’s consensual, they won’t have a problem with it? And if Oskar thinks it’ll lead to sex, I don’t see him having an objection. Even if there’s no way that will happen.
The first places I check are the hallway and some of the back rooms, but either Oskar has already left, or he doesn’t work as fast as I gave him credit for.
The VIP areas are upstairs, and even though I talked my way past the lineup outside, I can’t see me getting into those. I also get the feeling Oskar wouldn’t have gravitated that way anyway. He’s here to hook up and get back before I figure out he’s left, so if my hunch is right … My attention returns to the heaving dance floor … he’s in there somewhere.