Page 33 of Elite Player
He grins as if it’s a compliment and gently nudges me to step into his bedroom. It’s tidy and mostly bare, save for the hockey memorabilia. I guess if he couldn’t put it out in the living room, he saved it all for here, with an old Anaheim Ducks jersey and a signed hockey puck, though it looks like scribble to me. But it’s the mass-market paperback on the bedside table that makes me pause.
Nico follows my line of sight, and he hops onto the bed, showing it to me without a shadow of embarrassment. “I told you I love the fated mate trope.”
“You read romance?”
He nods. “Yeah. Love it.”
“Really?”
He presses his hand to his chest in faux outrage. “Yes. I can read.”
“But romance?”
“Yes. I don’t know why that’s so hard to believe.”
“I don’t know either,” I mumble, reaching out for the book, and he hands it right over. Nothing this man does is expected, and yet I can’t help but adore each new tidbit I learn about him.
This particular book has a nice set of abs on the cover and appears to be at least two decades old, a paranormal about an alpha wolf shifter who had previously lost his mate but has met a woman with whom he seems to have a strange connection. Nico’s about halfway through, a bookmark holding his place.
“Sheffy’s mom loves to read romance, and one afternoon while I was living up there with them, I borrowed one of her Harlequins. Been hooked ever since. Now we send each otherones we love, like our own little international book club. I like to search for Little Libraries around town. That’s where the real old, horny ones tend to live.”
“Old, horny ones?”
He nods seriously. “Anything prior to, like, 2010 is what I like for paranormal. If I’m reading historical, the best ones are from the ’80s or ’90s. Sports romance is really hot right now, but that’s a little too close to home, you know? I like to stick with something in a different world.”
“Wow. So youreallylove them.”
“Yeah.” He stands to take the book back from me, and when I tip my chin up, his eyes narrow pointedly, his voice dropping low, seductive. “A guy can learn a lot from reading.”
My skin heats like I’ve been dunked into a warm bath, pleasantly seduced. But as much as it feels nice to bask in Nico Tremblay’s shine, I have to remember, I’m not special or different from the probably hundreds of women he’s been with.
Which is what makes me take a step back, away from his heat and out of his orbit.
He doesn’t let me get far though, his fingers wrapping around my wrist. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“What is it?”
“I just…”
He tugs my lip out from under my teeth. “Tell me, Jo.”
“How much pretending are you doing when you’re not with me?”
He tilts his head to the side, a lock of hair drooping over his forehead, and I hate how much I like that puppy-dog look. “I don’t understand. What are you asking?”
Seeing as how I have nowhere to run with my back up against the wall, which I didn’t realize until this exact moment, I attempt to sidestep him, but he places his hand next to my head. I’m above average height for a woman, but he towers over me. And none more than when I’m trapped by all six feet,two inches of his body. He smells like soap and cotton, his gray T-shirt so worn, my fingers itch to fist it, find out how soft it is.
Instead of giving in to that terrible idea, I squeeze my eyes shut and force the question out. “How much sex are you still having?”
He doesn’t answer for a long time, and when I slowly blink my eyes open to him, I find him smirking. Of course. “Why do you want to know? Interested in being on the roster?”
“No. Absolutely not.” I push away from him and stalk back to the living room, but he’s hot on my heels as I stuff my camera back into my bag.
“Then why are you so mad all of a sudden?”
“I’m not mad, but what if someone catches you?”
