Nick: The Billionaire Star of NHL
Page 57
Nick: I distracted myself with your brothers and Aiden and Chase dragging me onto the dance floor like idiots.
Nick: I didn’t even want to go.
Sierra: Still doesn’t explain the girl practically glued to your side.
Sierra: She seemed to be part of your distraction.
There’s a pause. Then…
Nick: You think I’d let some other girl touch me?
Nick: Come on, Ser.
Nick: Don’t do this.
Nick: I’ve missed you all night.
Nick: Are you mad?
Sierra: No.
Nick: Jealous then?
Sierra: Maybe.
Nick: Good. I can work with that.
I roll on my back, cheeks warm in spite of everything.
Sierra: You should’ve written last night.
Nick: I wanted to.
Nick: You have no idea.
Sierra: Next time I’ll send you a photo of me grinding on a stranger.
Nick: Do it and I’m on the jet in the next second.
Nick: And he’s a dead man.
Sierra: So possessive.
Nick: So very.
I toss the blanket aside and reach for the glass of water on my nightstand, careful not to wake Thalia, who’s now sleeping again, a pillow over her head.
My phone buzzes again. Another text from Nick—a photo this time.
My photo. I recognize the club—my brother’s place, where we went last night. I’m mid-movement on the dance floor, laughing at something Thalia said. I look happy.
Three dots appear immediately, then explode into a message.
Nick: Are you fucking kidding me?
Nick: Colt?
I can almost hear the growl in his voice, even through text. I roll my eyes and type.