Perfect Pucking Match: A Hockey Romance by Fox Ivy

Perfect Pucking Match: A Hockey Romance by Fox Ivy

Author:Fox, Ivy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: X-Factory
Published: 2023-12-29T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter 23

Charlotte

I’m so completely focused on work that I answer my phone as it rings without even looking at the screen.

“Hello?” I answer absentmindedly, still focusing on the spreadsheet displayed on my computer screen.

“Hello?! Is that the kind of greeting I get?” Coop teases on the other side of the line.

“Coop?” I ask, a bit stunned. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Well, you don’t usually call me at work.”

Or ever, considering his preferred way of communication is sending the odd text here and there. I can’t remember the last time we actually talked, so it’s no wonder that I’m surprised.

“Maybe I wanted to hear my girlfriend’s voice. It’s been a while. It feels like we haven’t talked in days.”

It’s been a month, but I don’t correct him.

“Is there a reason why I shouldn’t call my girlfriend when I want to?” he asks suspiciously.

“No, don’t be silly. Of course not. Just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all. Especially during working hours. I’m kind of busy right now.”

“Too busy to talk to your boyfriend?”

Why is he dropping the girlfriend-slash-boyfriend title on me all of a sudden?

Does he think I need reminding?

Because I remember just fine. Cooper is the one who seems to have forgotten by the way he’s been treating me lately.

“No, I guess not.” I clear my throat, trying to avoid opening that can of worms right now. “So, how have you been, Coop?” I ask politely.

“Not as good as you are, apparently,” he retorts.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

Great.

If he called me because he’s in a bad mood and needs someone to be his punching bag, he called the wrong girl, because I don’t have time for this.

“Coop, I really am busy. If there is anything specific on your mind, then just come out and say it already.”

“Fine. Mind telling me why my mom emailed me a copy of the Boston Gazette’s society pages to show me that my girlfriend was on a date with a hockey player to the Boston Winter Ball?”

“Oh, that,” I mumble, biting my lower lip.

“Yeah, that,” he sneers. “Care to tell me why I’m staring at a picture of you drooling over an ogre like that?”

“Nate is not an ogre,” I defend, not liking his tone one bit.

“I know his name, Charlotte. It’s right there, written under your picture together—’Nathan Wilder’s surprise appearance at the Boston Winter Ball, looking dashing with a female friend on his arm’.”

Well, at least the press didn’t make up a story about us and wrote down friend instead of date.

There must be a silver lining in that, at least.

“He’s a client. And I’m helping him out,” I explain, keeping to my stern tone.

“By going on a date with him?” Cooper scoffs indignantly.

“No, by accompanying him to a gala so he could network and meet people.”

What I don’t tell him is that for the past month or so, I’ve been on more dates with Nathan than I have with Coop since he moved to New York.



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