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

Brad shook his head. “Um, no, I need more details. Like first, what did he do to convince you? Also, are you still living with your ex?”

I sighed and ran a shaky hand through my hair. I thought this was going to be a meeting to focus on my writing, not about my very weird marriage to my best friend. “He asked me to give him a couple months to prove it. And no, I ended up moving in with Riley. Mostly because I found a pair of underwear that weren’t mine under my bed!”

Brad scrunched up his face. “Ew!”

“Right? Eric’s sister found out he had been cheating on me.”

A scowl appeared across Brad’s face. Brad was in his mid-forties and had been in this business for a while. He was also so totally a dad. He was Papa Bear to all his clients, which was one of the things I loved about him. “What an asshole!”

I laughed and nodded.

“So, I want to talk about your book...but are you okay?”

“Riley’s been on the road this week, so I’ve had some time to think, and I think it’s a blessing I didn’t marry Eric. I think our relationship was over a long time ago, and maybe we were just holding on. But enough about that. Can we please talk about my writing?”

“Okay, fine. Where are you at?”

“I need to proofread, but almost done.”

His eyes cut across to me suspiciously. “Okay, but what’s the problem?”

I took another gulp of my drink and put a hand to my chin.

What was the problem?

That I thought it was hot garbage and everyone would want to dump the book right in the trash. That I wasn’t actually as skilled as I thought at stringing words into complete sentences. I thought that I was a fraud, and my publisher was going to figure that out when they read the stinking pile of crap that flew into their inbox.

“I think it’s bad,” I admitted.

Brad drummed his hands on the table in front of me. “Why?”

I shrugged. “Everything I do is awful. It feels like I have the thoughts inside my brain, but my hands turn them into ash on the keyboard.”

Brad raised an eyebrow. “Okay...I think this is your imposter syndrome rearing its ugly head again.”

I frowned and took another sip of my coffee. He might have been onto something. I had inked a three-book deal with my publisher, and they were so far happy with my results. Book two had hit lists, not great, but it did okay, but I was so worried that this last book was going to tank. Or that everyone was going to hate it.

“Fi, turn in the book. It’s a first draft; stop holding on to it,” Brad urged.

“I’m not ready!” I whined.

“You’ll never be ready!” he exclaimed. “Again, it’s a first draft.”

I pouted and crossed my arms. “Okay, fine, but I need to proofread it before turning it in.”

I saw my phone light up with a notification, and I couldn’t help the smile from spreading across my face when I saw it was a text from Riley.

RILEY: Get off Twitter, and finish your book!

Brad nudged me with his foot. “Okay, what is that face? Who just texted you?”

My face fell in horror. “What? Nothing, no one!”

Brad’s face had a grin so mischievous that I wanted to slap it off of him.

“Oh my God, is it your husband? I need to meet this guy because your boring ex never made you smile like that!”

I sipped at my coffee and pretended not to hear that last part. It didn’t stop me from texting Riley under the table while Brad and I talked about my plans for stories after this trilogy was done. I had a few ideas but couldn’t really settle on one.

ME: Don’t tell me what to do!

RILEY: Just words of encouragement, sweetheart.

ME: Gah, I think it sucks real bad.

RILEY: I can’t wait to get home so I can read it.

ME: You want to read it?

RILEY: I NEED to know what happens next.

ME: You read the second book?

RILEY: Yes!!! Gimme the next one!

ME: Ugh, don’t you have some pre-game rituals you need to do?

RILEY: Yeah, I was wondering where you were. I just got home, about to take my pre-game nap.

ME: Work thing. I’ll see you later.

I looked up from my phone when I realized Brad had stopped talking and I hadn’t been paying attention. He glared at me and threw a napkin at my head. “You’re texting him, aren’t you?”

“No…”

Brad grinned again. “Okay, you’re so in love.”

“What?” I balked.

I bit my nails and thought. Could I be? With Riley? Could you fall in love with someone that quickly? Was that even possible? I definitely had been lying in his bed alone the past couple nights with a sense of yearning. Jury was still out on if that yearning came from my heart or from between my legs. I wasn’t sure I was ready for the answer yet.

I directed my attention back to my agent and shook my head vigorously. “I don’t know about that.”

Brad raised his eyebrows, and I put my phone away so I wouldn’t be distracted any longer. Brad was still smiling at me. “So…I’ve never been to a hockey game before. You think you can teach me?”

“Do you want to come over and watch the game with me?”

He nodded. “Yes, because I really think you need a break from writing tonight. You need to relax.”

One thing my agent Brad didn’t understand was that watching hockey was the least relaxing thing in the world for me. Especially when I was a rabid fan, and I was watching my husband take too many goddamn penalties and getting checked into the boards a little too hard. I took a swig of my beer, and my eyes darted across the flatscreen TV, watching the players shuffle down the ice.

Brad took another slice of pizza