Page 146 of The Romance Line
She nods impishly. “And I maybe, possibly got some pics. And I maybe, possibly dropped some hints about her extracurricular affairs to a gossip blog.”
“Jenna!”
She bobs a shoulder. “Well, she deserves what’s coming to her.”
Two days later, what comes the rock star’s way is front-page news on the celebrity sites—Lyra Raine is cheating on Fletcher Bane. America’s sweetheart isn’t so sweet after all.
I sigh happily. I can’t think of a better way for the truth to come out than a story that doesn’t once mention Max.
57
MY REAL FAVORITE THING
Max
Seven long days. Seven long nights. But they end tonight. I’m tapping my foot against the floor of the team bus, willing it to pull faster into the players’ lot.
“In a rush, Lambert?” Miles asks dryly from across the aisle.
“Yeah, just a little bit.”
Wesley’s right in front of me, and he shoots me a sympathetic look. “Know the feeling, man. These long road trips are hard.”
“They sure are,” I say.
“I miss Josie way too much. But you’re lucky. At least Everly will be on the next one,” he says, and there is that. I am lucky since she travels with the team half the time. But the other half is still hell.
I need to see her, stat.
The bus comes to a stop and I bound off with myduffel. I make it to my car in record time, then head home even faster.
Home…where my two favorite ladies will be waiting for me. I peel into a spot in the parking garage, then rush to the elevator, and punch the button for the penthouse.
Forty-five interminable seconds later, the doors slide open and I walk down the hall then unlock the door.
Everly hasn’t moved in with meyet,but she will. She is, however, waiting for me when I come home. And…I can’t breathe.
She’s wearing white lace panties and a white dress shirt of mine.
That’s it. Nothing else.
Oh, wait.
She’s got a kitten in her arms. “Hey, you,” she says as I drop my bag. “We missed you.”
I tear my gaze away from her for a hot second, doing a double take when I take a better look at Athena. “Is my cat wearing clothes?”
“Oh, this little thing?” Everly plucks at the blue shirt she’s somehow wrestled the cat into. “It was sent in from an animal rescue. She has so many outfits from animal rescues and fans thanks to your interview. Little Friends even made her one with a Sea Dogs number. Six. Since she’s your sixth foster,” she says of the tiny hockey jersey my cat is wearing.
I reach for the furball and hold her for a second before she squirms in my arms.
Well, she is a cat. I set her down and she runs off somewhere, probably to get the touch of human off her.
“That is fucking adorable but you…are…” I stop and gaze in lusty admiration at the half-naked beauty.
Then I do more than look. I touch. Running a hand upher stomach, over her breasts, up her neck, and around to her hair, all lush and silky and blown out.
“Beautiful,” I say, “and all mine.”