Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
cole
“Slow down, boy.”
Tugging on Goose’s leash does me no good.
He zigs and zags across the sidewalk, chasing each new smell like he’s a detective on a case.
The late November winds bite the skin not covered by my jacket as we pass one locally owned shop after another.
We pass a bakery, dispensary, deli, and two coffee shops before I spot the book-shaped wooden sign reading Book Nook.
“Heel,” I demand, my tone firm. “Goose. Heel.”
When he finally listens, I bend down and scratch behind his ears. “That’s a good boy. You ready to wingman me?”
He sniffs the front door, which is as good a response as any.
According to the website, the Book Nook is dog-friendly—a bonus since I’m banking on Goose to help soften Maya.
Logan spent Thanksgiving with the Silver family and reported back that Goose has a crush on Maya.
Like father, like son. He didn’t even whine for food; he was just happy to snuggle up against her.
Inside, the dry scent of paper and pine shelving washes over me. Maya’s easy to spot, tucked behind the front desk, with her head bent over a thick book, her hair cascading in curls around her shoulders.
My heart thuds at the sight.
Okay, yeah, she was right. Something about seeing her surrounded by books sends my brain straight into sexy librarian territory.
Goose spots her an instant after I do and barks at her like she’s a squirrel who just darted up a tree. He rears up on his hind legs as if he’s about to waltz on over.
“Goose,” I chastise under my breath as he tugs on his leash.
Maya’s head snaps up at the sound of my overexcited dog and a smile illuminates her face. As beautiful as it is, it doesn’t disguise the glint of apprehension in her eyes. But at least she seems pleased to see us. And by us, I mean Goose.
He lunges again, desperate to get to her. I don’t fight it this time, following his lead since he’s got the right idea anyway.
Maya steps out from behind the counter to meet us, and holy hell, her sweater clings to her like it was custom-made.
Her painted-on jeans aren’t doing much to help my self-control either.
When she bends to pet Goose, I barely manage to keep my eyes on her face and not her perfect ass. I’m only human, after all.
“Hi, handsome man,” she croons with a soft laugh. Her voice alone is like a siren call. Gentle yet sultry. It’s clear she’s referring to my dog and not me, but I soak in the compliment anyway.
“Hey,” I greet with a welcoming smile.
She peers up at me. The smile is still in place, but confusion clouds her eyes. “Hey yourself. How are you?”
Without waiting for a response, she focuses on Goose again, showering him with attention, peppering his face with kisses.
I’ve never been jealous of my dog until now.
For reasons unbeknownst to me—maybe it’s my newfound possessive streak flaring to life—I start rambling.
“I’m okay. No complaints. We’re twenty-four games in and we’ve got more wins than losses, which is always good for morale.
Especially since none of them have been consecutive losses and only one was an OT loss.
” My lungs burn from lack of oxygen, but I don’t stop.
“Clifton’s injury means he’ll be out the rest of the season, which sucks, but it’ll give Peruzzi a chance to help fortify our defensive depth… ”
Tilting her head to the side, eerily similar to the way Goose is looking at me, she laughs. “So… you’re good?”
Heat creeps up my neck. Because for a minute there, I became the most painfully stereotypical athlete in history. “I’m good,” I confirm. “How have you been?”
“Busy with books, so the usual.”
“Reading anything good?”
Straightening to her full height, which isn’t very tall, Maya hits me with an adorably grumpy pout that shouldn’t make my dick twitch but does. “What a ridiculous question. Life’s too short to read bad books, Cole.”
“You should get that printed on a t-shirt.” The corners of my mouth curl up into a smirk. “I’m actually looking for something to read on the road.”
Or at least that’s my excuse for being here. In all honesty, there’s a chance motion sickness will kick in if I try to read on a plane or a bus, but the way Maya lights up and bounces on her toes makes me keep that detail to myself.
“Then you’ve definitely come to the right place,” she says, all her hesitation melting away. “What sort of book are you looking for? Memoir, thriller, historical fiction?”
“Uh… All of the above?”
Maya throws her head back and lets out an indulgent laugh.
Goose gives a happy yip at the noise, butting into Maya’s legs in a bid for her attention. No amount of training has rid him of that needy habit, but she doesn’t seem to mind.
Tapping her chin, her lips twitching, she asks, “Okay, what’s your favorite TV show? Or movie? That’ll give us a place to start.”
I list the last few shows I binged, and without another word, she turns on her heel and waves, motioning for me to follow. It’s sexy as hell watching her take charge.
Goose and I trail behind her as she expertly weaves through the shelves filled with colorful spines. A few other customers browse the aisles, and an older gentleman reads a newspaper in a nearby chair, but my focus stays on Maya.
She finally stops near the back of the store and pulls a book off a shelf. As she examines the cover, she lets out a sigh, as if finding this book has given her a deep sense of satisfaction. “This one’s supposed to be really good. I’ve sold three copies this week alone.”
I take it from her outstretched hand and inspect the cover like it will share the book’s secret with me. “Have you read it?”
Brows lifting in surprise, she shakes her head. “Oh. No, I haven’t, but a lot of customers say it’s like a mix of Succession and Yellowstone. Full of family drama and angst.”
With a shake of my head, I hold the book out to her. “I want something you’ve read.”
I need an in, and yes, I absolutely will use her love of literature to endear me to her. In my defense, I did tell her I play to win.
A light pink hue blooms across her cheeks. “I’ll put this one away, then.”
When she reaches up to return the book, her sweater rides up, showing off the curved flare of her waist. Images of my calloused hands gripping her hips as she rides my cock play through my mind. Fuck, get it together.
When she wobbles on her toes, I close the distance between us and slide the hardcover back into place, brushing my body against hers in the process. It does the exact opposite of helping me get my shit together.
“Um. Okay. So, like, any book I’ve read?” Maya sidesteps away, her eyes darting around the shelves, focusing on anything but me.
“Your favorite book of all time,” I amend.
“That’s… that’s like asking me to pick my favorite child.
” Lips parted and eyes wide, she looks borderline scandalized.
“The answer is also dependent on so many things. I could tell you my favorite comfort read, my favorite motorcycle club series, my favorite contemporary romance, my favorite classic. The list goes on. I can’t give you just one. ”
Then she really dives in, listing titles, her favorite characters, and plot twists that wrecked her. I simply listen in rapture. Goose, too, who’s stopped sniffing everything in sight and sits silently to my left, head cocked and eyes locked on Maya like she’s reciting poetry just for him.
After a solid five minutes, she goes quiet, nibbling on her lower lip. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ramble. I get a bit carried away sometimes. Don’t even get me started on book boyfriends.”
I throw her a curious look. “What’s a book boyfriend?”
“What’s a book boyfriend?” The heated intensity of her stare cuts through the shield of confidence I wear like a well-earned badge.
“Book boyfriends fill the gap where men fail to deliver,” she explains.
“They’re everything a person wishes existed in real life—romantic, emotionally available, committed.
They know exactly what to say. And if they annoy me or disagree with my very correct opinion?
I can shut the book and shove them back on the shelf. ”
“Sounds healthy,” I note, holding in a laugh. “Although I doubt a book boyfriend can offer you certain kinds of relief a real man can.”
Her loud, carefree laugh tightens my balls like a warm fucking hand. “You’d be surprised.”
Fuck.
“Want to make a bet?” I waggle my brows, because fuck, that is one bet I’m sure to win. No doubt in my mind.
Maya’s cheeks burn instantly. Yeah, she clearly remembers our last bet.
I let a self-satisfied smirk take over.
“Nope.” She shakes her head resolutely. “No more bets.”
“Mm-hmm.” I take a step closer. “Now you’ve got me curious. I want to read something with a book boyfriend who can apparently compete with the real thing.”
Maya’s eyes brighten deviously. “Oh, I know just the book.”
We work our way to the front of the store, passing sturdy bookshelves that line the walls and curve around hidden reading nooks and tables.
When she points to a book featuring a shirtless purple alien with a furry tail, I can’t help but chuckle. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”
“Aliens make good book boyfriends,” she says with a teasing grin.
“It looks promising,” I lie through my teeth. I’m going to get my ass handed to me if I read this in front of my teammates.
She snorts at my forced tone. “Don’t judge a book by its cover. I thoroughly enjoyed this one. But if you’d rather read something else—”
“Maya,” I cut her off, gently taking the book from her hands and holding it the way she did, like it’s something to be revered. “I asked for a book you’ve read so we can talk about it. And so I have another excuse to see you.”
Her pouty lips part, and a slow, telltale flush crawls up her neck. “Why?”
“Because I like you.”