Score Her Heart: A Marriage of Convenience Hockey Romance (Philadelphia Bulldogs Book 2) Danica Flynn (best ebook reader for surface pro .TXT) đ
- Author: Danica Flynn
Book online «Score Her Heart: A Marriage of Convenience Hockey Romance (Philadelphia Bulldogs Book 2) Danica Flynn (best ebook reader for surface pro .TXT) đ». Author Danica Flynn
Somehow, I knew that we both knew that line was complete and utter bullshit. Eric never slept through anything.
I pulled out my phone and texted him again while Katie tried to call him for the tenth time.
ME: WTF!!!
ME: Where are you?
ME: Mother fucker, I know you arenât passed out drunk somewhere.
ME: Answer me!
I saw Katie repeatedly saying the word âokayâ into her phone, but she wasnât looking at me. Almost like she was too embarrassed to look me in the eyes right now.
I looked back at my phone and saw the three dots indicating typing, then they disappeared and immediately came back up. Finally, I was getting an answer on what the actual fuck was going on.
ERIC: Iâm sorry.
ERIC: I canât do this. I donât want to get married. Canât we go back to the way things were?
ME: Are you FUCKING kidding me?
ERIC: I donât want to marry you.
ME: Go fuck yourself. Get your shit, and get out of my apartment.
ERIC: Itâs our apartment.
ME: And everythingâs in my name. Kindly go fuck yourself gently with a chainsaw.
I wanted to hurl my phone at the wall, but instead, I hurled myself out of the room.
âFiona, where are you going?â Mom shrieked after me.
âThe fucking bar!â I yelled back and hitched up the skirt of my ridiculous dress. I couldnât even think of the fiasco this would cause for my parents. I didnât care; I needed a drink.
I parked myself in front of the hotel bar in a huff. The bartender blinked at me in surprise. He glanced over my shoulder and then back at me. âI think youâre early?â he asked in confusion.
âItâs off,â I seethed. âGive me a whiskey.â
His face fell, and he nodded before getting to work behind the bar. He put a glass of whiskey down in front of me. âOn the house, Miss.â
I shook my head. âOh, no, donât pity me.â
He pushed the glass closer to me. âI insist.â
I cocked my head at him. He was kind of cute with his spiky blond hair and five oâclock shadow. Maybe I should fuck him just to get back at Eric. Maybe it was the fact that my sex life had been lacking in the past couple months that I was entertaining the idea of sleeping with a stranger. I took the drink and downed it in one fell swoop. I looked at my phone and saw more texts from Eric.
ERIC: I was happy before, but I donât see why we had to get married.
ERIC: Marriage is stupid. We donât want kids.
ERIC: Fi, donât be this way. I know you donât want this wedding either.
I frowned but noticed my drink had been refilled. The cute bartender winked at me, and I nodded my head at him in thanks.
The truth was we hadnât decided that we didnât want kids; Eric had decided that and never gave me the chance to really think about it. I had been fine with that because I had loved him, but the fact that he didnât want to go through with the wedding either meant he didnât love me. How could I expect him to be committed to me if he didnât show up on our wedding day? PLUS! Canceling all of this shit was going to cost a shit ton of money. I didnât even want to think about it. My dad was going to be livid if he wasnât already. I might need to get him a whole bottle of whiskey to apologize. Maybe even a freaking case.
I maddeningly typed out my response into my phone.
ME: AGAIN, how about you go fuck yourself, you fucking asshat? I canât believe you did this to me. We are DONE. Have a good life, Eric!
My phone was blowing up with texts from guests wondering what was going on, but the only one I looked at was Rileyâs.
ME: Donât come.
RILEY: Whatâs going on?
ME: Weddingâs off. Donât come. Iâm sorry, I know it was hard for you to get here with your hockey schedule.
RILEY: Where are you?
ME: Bar.
I put my head in my hands and finished off my second glass of whiskey. I put my phone down and decided answering all those texts was not what I was going to do right now. When I pulled my hands away, my eyeliner was smudged on my hand, along with some wetness. Great, I was the crying bride left at the altar drinking alone at the bar.
Way to be a cliche, Fiona!
A glass of water and another whiskey was placed in front of me. âYou want to start a tab?â the bartender asked me.
Before I could answer, a deep voice from behind me said, âYeah, put it on my card.â
I turned to take in Riley in all his glory. He looked great in a suit, his broad shoulders and thick biceps filling it out nicely. His blond hair was tousled in that âI couldnât care lessâ style that meant he spent a long time on it. Iâd only seen him a few times this year; with his professional hockey career and my writing career, we were both traveling a lot and rarely in the same city. But damn, he looked good today, filling out that suit tailored specifically for him. I felt heat pool in my lower belly, but maybe it was just from all the whiskey. I definitely wasnât remembering all those times in high school when Rileyâs mouth had been on mine. Definitely not.
Riley slid onto the stool next to me and ordered a beer. When the bartender handed him the bottle, thatâs when he turned to me and pulled me into a big bear hug. Maybe thatâs all I needed because I relaxed into his strong arms, leaning my face against his hard chest. But then I started crying again. To his credit, Riley was a good sport who let me cry on his shoulder
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