Page 93 of Ice Wolf
Her laugh filtered through the room and I felt the same possessiveness and need to protect her as before. “I think I’d enjoy watching.”
I stepped another two inches closer. “You would, huh?”
“Yes,” she whispered, suddenly nervous around me. “I would.”
Why was it that there were so many awkward moments between us?
“You’re a very special lady and I won’t do anything to make you look bad.”
“I know you won’t.”
“I hope you do.” I brushed my hand against her face and she allowed a slight moan but slipped away from me.
“Why don’t we figure out about something for dinner. That is unless you have something else you need to do.”
“Yeah, that sounds cool, although I’m not too sure how much food is in the house.” I laughed and realized my life outside of hockey was a joke.
When she offered one of her mischievous looks, I grinned. “You’d be surprised what I can make with just a few ingredients.”
“Nothing about you would surprise me any longer. You’re like some superwoman who can do everything.” It was good to hear her laugh.
A blipping sound caught my attention. She groaned. “More.”
“Social media?”
“Yep. We were trending. Why don’t we see what’s being said now.” She pulled out her phone, dramatic about the way she moved through various screens. Her smile quickly faded and she lifted her head, the look turning into one of horror.
“What is it?” When she didn’t answer right away, I pulled the phone from her hand.
Now I was getting angry, so much so I took several deep breaths to calm the building rage. The headline was from theSungazer, a rag online magazine that had a huge following. Since I’d snubbed them six months before, they’d had it out for me.
This time they’d gone too far.
The headline was on the front page.
Shocking Pictures of Star NHL Player Saint ‘The Savage’ Masters in the Wild
While that was bad enough, the photographs were worse.
Instead of being intimidated or falling into the pressure, my Lily flower shored her shoulders, stared me right in the eyes, and initiated plan B.
“Now, this means war.”
CHAPTER 23
Lily
Rage.
Violent, uncontrollable anger. That was the clinical definition of how I felt. The way I’d phrase it was that I was ready to rip off heads with my bare hands, using them as bowling balls.
Fuming, I stirred the pasta salad as I tossed in the shredded cheese.
“You’re getting more on the counter than you are in the bowl.”
Hearing Saint’s gravelly voice behind me created a thrill that shifted all the way between my legs. I should feel nothing but anger with him, but all that had changed the moment I read the bullshit in theSungazer. While everyone in four different states where the rag magazine was popular knew they were trash, that didn’t mean they didn’t have a huge subscription base.
That was evidenced by the hundreds of Instagram tags he’d received, the constant phone calls neither one of us had answered, and texts from just about everyone on the team.
