Briggs (Carolina Reapers 7) - Page 38

“You’re the best,” I said to Grace, who sat next to me. “This is absolutely the only way to watch a game.”

“Told you,” she said, her eyes on the game unfolding before us. “You can feel it here.”

I nodded in agreement, my heart racing as if I were the one currently shredding the ice right now.

But I wasn’t.

Cormac was. And he was fucking brilliant. He used his entire body to propel him forward, faster, like a lightning strike—powerful, beautiful, just this side of terrifying. I’d always known how talented he was, but seeing it this close? Hearing the ice scrape beneath his skates, seeing the determination on his face, and watching the way his team complimented one another? It was downright mesmerizing.

Exhilarating.

Chaotic.

Hot.

Cormac to a freaking T.

“Something wrong with the VIP box?” Silas’s voice sounded over the crazed energy and cheering from the fans all around us, and I glanced to the other side of Grace, where Silas stood on the stairs next to her aisle seat.

I leaned closer so he could hear me. “I wanted to be close to the action,” I said, and Silas smiled as he dropped to a crouch, putting him at our level for the conversation.

Grace’s eyes about popped out of her as she glanced to me, and I had to bite back a laugh.

“It’s something, isn’t it?” he asked, his eyes darting from the ice back to us.

“Insanity,” I said. “Beautiful insanity.” I looked to Grace, who seemed to be trying to make herself disappear with Silas so close to her, but his eyes were on the ice again. “This is my friend, Grace,” I said when she wasn’t speaking up herself.

Silas turned his attention back to us and gave her a small nod in that signature cool and collected way Silas did. “You two have a fun time,” he said, rising to his full and significant height. “Just wanted to make sure you hadn’t been booted from the VIP box for some reason.”

I laughed. “Me? Never,” I said innocently.

He chuckled, then dipped his head and walked up the stairs.

“What a weirdo,” Grace said, and I tilted my head.

“What? Why?”

She waved behind her. “What’s a billionaire doing in jeans and a Reaper shirt?” she asked, slightly flustered. “And why the hell does it matter if you’re down here with the lowly citizens.”

“Omigod, he didn’t say anything like that.”

“Sure he did,” she said, shaking her head. “You don’t see it because you’re one of the rare ones. But people with unlimited funds see the world differently—see it in terms of haves and have nots.”

“You’ve been saying that a lot lately,” I said, frowning at her. “Are you keeping something from me?” We shared everything, but I’d been traveling a ton lately. Had some rich jerk broken her heart, and she hadn’t told me?

She waved me off. “It’s nothing. I’m just being bratty,” she joked, then pointed at the ice. “There goes your boy.”

I turned back to the ice to see Cormac steal the puck and take off with it. My heart leaped in my throat, and I found myself cheering as hard as anyone else in the crowd. The game’s intensity ratcheted up enough that by the time it was over, I was a panting, excited mess.

Grace wished me luck, hailing a cab after the game to make it for her late shift. I hugged her close, not totally forgetting the conversation we didn’t have, but I knew Grace. She wouldn’t talk about anything until she was ready, and I’d just have to be there for her when she was.

Butterflies flapped in my stomach as I made it to the hotel where I knew Cormac was staying. I had no idea if he wanted to see me or not, but I sure as hell was about to find out.

I took the elevator up and up until it stopped on his floor, then did my best not to let my knees give out as I made it to his door. I hated that sliver of doubt that tightened my chest, but when you’d been rejected by one man as many times as I had…it was enough to create a complex. But Cormac had been more than willing last time…

“Bristol?” Cormac asked as he opened the door before I could knock.

He was freshly showered and dressed in a casual pair of slacks and a polo. “Oh, I…um…” I motioned to his attire. “You’re going out. Of course, you are. Sorry. I’ll just—”

My words were cut off when his hand gently clutched my wrist, and he hauled me into his room with one sweeping move. My spine kissed the closed door, and then his mouth was on mine.

I arched into the way his body pressed against mine, electricity crackling in my blood at his touch. I leaned my head back, opening under his lip’s demands, his tongue sliding in with ease as he teased and flicked the edges of my teeth.

Tags: Samantha Whiskey Carolina Reapers Romance
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