Page 11 of Wild Love
“Hey. What are you doing here?”
He does a quick scan of me. I’m still in a tank top, no bra, and running shorts, and he isn’t bashful about soaking up every inch of bare skin.
“I have a proposition for you.” His deep voice rumbles down my spine.
I step back to let him come in, then cross my arms over my chest to conceal how much my nipples seem to like his voice and the way he scopes me out.
“Propositioning a girl this soon after one left your apartment is a bold move,” I say as I grab a sweatshirt draped over the back of the couch and pull it on. I sit, and he does too.
“Not that kind of proposition.”
I note that he doesn’t try to deny he took Vanilla home again last night. Whose name, I sadly learned, is Claudia, and now I feel bitchy calling her Vanilla. Shame. It was so catchy.
I angle my body to face him now that he can’t see my nipples saluting him. “What’s up?”
“How would you like to intern with the Wildcats this summer?”
“The Wildcats? As in the professional hockey team located in Minnesota?”
“That’s the one.” His mouth curves up.
“I tried the Coyotes and the minor league team in town, too. My adviser said those internships get hundreds of applicants and fill up early. The Wildcats have spots still open?”
He runs a hand over his messy, dark hair. “Yeah. They’ve already interviewed a bunch of people, but Blythe said if you sent over your resume this morning, she’d take a look.”
“Blythe?”
“She’s the VP of marketing. Seems cool.”
My lips spread into a wide smile. It’s dumb to get my hopes up, not to mention all the logistics of an internship in freaking Minnesota, but I can’t help the butterflies in my stomach. “Really? You’re not screwing with me?”
“Not screwing with you. She’s waiting to hear from you. They’re a couple of hours ahead of us, so I wouldn’t wait too long.”
“You did this?”
“I just asked. I had to call and get some information this morning, anyway.”
I lunge forward and hug him. “Thank you, Johnny.”
A few seconds pass with me squeezing him before he returns the gesture. I feel his laughter and the words as he speaks them. “You’re welcome.”
I pull back, stunned and giddy at the prospect of getting out of Valley for the summer. I need a change of scenery.
I glance at my laptop on the coffee table. I want to grab it and look up everything I possibly can about the Wildcats and Blythe, but he’s still sitting here, and it feels rude after what he’s done. He must be able to tell, though, because he juts his chin and says, “Go. I have to get to class anyway.”
“Isn’t it kind of pointless to go to class now?”
“Nah.” He gives his head one quick shake. “I mean, yes, it’s probably pointless, but I want to soak it all up before I leave.” His hand falls to my thigh, and he squeezes. “Text me later and let me know how it goes?”
“Absolutely.”
* * *
Within five minutesof emailing my resume to Blythe, I get a call from the woman herself.
Reagan’s back home and she smiles at me from the kitchen while I talk to Blythe. I love her. She’s already my hero: twenty-nine and the VP of marketing for an NHL team.
“The internship is eight weeks, working here in the main office. We try to give you opportunities in all areas, from selling tickets to creating content for our social media accounts.” The longer she speaks, the more excited I become.
