Score Her Heart: A Marriage of Convenience Hockey Romance (Philadelphia Bulldogs Book 2) by Danica Flynn (best mystery novels of all time .txt) 📗

glistening with sweat. I couldn’t get over how sexy my best friend was or how he just fucked my brains out. He smiled as he crossed the room to me and placed a gentle kiss on my lips. “You okay?” he asked, running his hand across my face in a gentle caress.

“Uh huh,” I breathed out.

“That good, huh?” he teased.

I shook out of it and pulled away from him. “Don’t be a dick.”

“You should still take that nap,” he insisted.

“Can’t,” I started to explain, but then yelped when he picked me up into his arms and walked into the bedroom. I glared when he deposited me onto the bed. I still hadn’t pulled on all my clothes. I only got so far as my underwear, and now I laid annoyed and topless in the bed.

He joined me in the bed, still naked and sweaty. I couldn’t get over how weird this whole situation was. Like, was I really married to him? And had he really convinced me to give it a couple months before asking for a divorce again? It would have been one thing if we had boned after Eric left me at the altar, but nope, Riley had to be extra AF and married me instead. I mean, Riley was my best friend, but I couldn’t force him to be married to me when I didn’t love him. Well, I did love him, but not like that. At least I didn’t think so. This was so fucked, but right now, I couldn’t think about it. I hadn’t written in two days, and I really needed to meet this deadline.

“I want to,” I admitted, “but I can’t.”

He slung his arm around my waist and pulled me into his chest, my exposed breasts crushing up against the hard lines there. “Why not?” he asked.

I tried not to be so distracted by how good it felt to be held in his arms like this. It would be so nice to fall asleep with him post-coitus, but I couldn’t. “I need to meet a deadline. This stupid-ass wedding put me behind my writing goals. I need a little time to bang out a couple chapters,” I explained.

“Wait, isn’t your book already out?” he asked, clearly confused.

“Book two came out last week; this is book three,” I explained.

“Your job’s weird.”

“Books take a long time. This is the first draft to my publisher, and it will go through a million revisions before it gets published. I’m afraid of turning in the final book in this trilogy and they realize they made a mistake and I have to beg for my day job back.”

He kissed the top of my head. “I’m sure it’s fine. Can’t you write on the plane tomorrow?”

“I probably will, but I need to put in the time right now.”

He loosened his grip on me, and I got out of the bed before he changed his mind and tried to keep me there. It was super tempting to snuggle into his strong chest and go back to sleep. I was super hungover, so writing was going to be hell today, but I had to put the words onto the page. Even if they were bad.

I stopped in the bathroom first and ended up fixing my hair, now tangled from our sexcapades. I pulled it into a messy top knot, and when I came out, Riley had fallen asleep. Good; that meant I wouldn’t have any distractions.

I put on a pair of comfy leggings and a t-shirt, grabbed my computer and headphones, and tip-toed into the adjoining room. I shut the door to the bedroom quietly behind me and set myself up at the counter in the kitchen. I couldn’t look at the kitchen table without thinking about what we had just done. I put on another pot of coffee, put my headphones on, and started writing garbage.

Every line, every piece of dialogue I wrote wasn’t working. I had to push through and get something on the page, but I was unhappy with what I was writing. There was a gaping plot hole in the ending, but I couldn’t figure out how to solve it. I flipped back to the novel outline to figure it out, but I couldn’t figure out how to solve it without completely rewriting this book. I was screwed.

I tried to just write to get it all out, but I got distracted by my phone buzzing across the counter. I had been ignoring it, but the buzzing pulled me away from my thoughts.

Three missed calls from Eric. Four text messages.

What the fuck?

ERIC: My sister told me you got married anyway. What the fuck?

ERIC: To Aaron fucking Riley???

ERIC: Tell me this is a joke.

ERIC: Have you been fucking him this whole time?

Anger swelled up into my chest. How dare he? He left me at the altar, and now he was accusing me of cheating on him. My fingers flew in a rage across my phone screen.

ME: How about…go fuck yourself?

I sent him a picture of my left hand with my ring finger sticking out as if I was giving him the finger to show him the wedding ring.

ME: Yeah, I got married to someone else instead. Not that it’s any of your business.

ME: I’m coming home tomorrow. Let me know when you get your shit out of my apartment.

Immediately my phone started ringing, and I didn’t even need to see the caller ID to know it was Eric. I didn’t know why I bothered to answer it; maybe I wanted closure.

“What could you possibly want?” I seethed.

“Are you serious? You seriously up and married someone else?” my ex asked on the other line.

“You LEFT me. LEFT ME! You made it pretty clear you didn’t want to continue a relationship with me.”

“I didn’t want to get married!”

“Do you know how much money you have cost me? I had to cancel our honeymoon!”

He was silent for a moment.

“Yeah, I guess you didn’t think of all the repercussions of what you did to