Page 50 of Wild Blades

I’m excited to find out.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Wade

“I’ll take those, those, and those.” I point at three different pairs of Converse. “And the Virgil Abloh ones.”

“They all look the same,” Kali mutters to herself.

I've enjoyed shopping with her today more than I thought I would. She’s funny, knows everyone, and eats like a fucking horse. She ate two burgers at lunch, yet declared she was still hungry and ordered fries and onion rings. Then ordered dessert.

I gave her a fist bump for demolishing everything.

A fucking fist bump.

What I really wanted to do was kiss her pouty mouth.

She’s the opposite of Amelia, who counted every calorie, choosing salads instead of burgers when we went out for dinner. Looking back, she wasn’t much fun to be around, but Kali… I swipe a sneaky look… she’s… different. Free-spirited and at the same time, she’s demure, controlled, and fascinating.

She looks a million bucks in the simple clothes I ordered for her. Although they aren’t simple; they cost me a fortune. I almost passed out when the concierge told me how much a pair of Givenchy jeans were.Two and a half grand. Worth it though. She’s a fucking smoke show in them.

I point at the pairs of Converse I picked out that are all the same color. “Those are X Comme des Garçons, those are Stüssy and those are Chuck Taylor All Star 70 Hi Riri.”

“I don’t mean that.” She steps forward in the heels she had on from last night.

Heels and jeans might just be my new kink.

Picking up a boot off the display, she holds it up to compare it against each pair I have chosen. “Black and white. Black and white and oh, black and white. Lots of variation there.”

“And you’re a ray of sunshine with your color choices.” All I’ve ever seen her in is black. Black dresses with black heels. Black skirts, which I’m now imagining hiking up around her waist and ripping off that hot as fuck Italian lace and silk underwear she wears after getting an eye full of last night.

“I have blue on today.” She looks down at her never-ending legs wrapped in the finest denim.

“And black.” I wave my finger up and down in the air, motioning to her sweater, which was a thousand bucks. You can’t blame me. One glance at her fine Italian underwear made me do it, plus I felt sorry for her after what Michael said to her.Fuck it, I can afford it.

Placing the boot back on the display, she chuckles, “You got me.”

“Excuse me, can I get an autograph?” A little voice comes from below me.

Graham, Lola’s fiancé was forced to lock the front door after news got out I was shopping in his store and the staff are only letting a few customers in at a time.

Dropping my gaze, the cutest little dude with my hockey jersey on smiles up at me, looking like I’m one of the seven wonders of the world.

“Absolutely.” I look around and find his parents standing behind me who wavehi.

“He’s obsessed with you.” His mom, whose cheeks grow brighter than a strawberry, shares that information as his dad steps forward to shake my hand.

“Love you, man. Been following you since you were drafted.”

“Thanks, man. I appreciate that.” I’m a little lost for words and pleased to hear that not every fan hates me.

“You’ve been fighting a little too much lately, huh?” The dad asks me a question that isn’t really a question.

“I’m dealing with it. Promise.”

“Don’t screw it up. My wife and I, we love you. Rory here thinks you’re the world’s best hockey player.”

“That right? Best in the world? Wow.”

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