Loud Mouth by Avery Flynn

Author:Avery Flynn [Flynn, Avery]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: City Life Fiction; Contemporary Romance; Hockey Romance; Contemporary Women's Fiction; Sports Romance; Romantic Comedy; General Humorous Fiction; Avery Flynn; Loud Mouth by Avery Flynn; Loudmouth; Butterface by Avery Flynn; Awkweird by Avery Flynn; The Negotiator by Avery Flynn; Butterface by Avery Flynn; Entangled Publishing; Amara; Single Title Romance; Stand alone romance; Ice Knights Series; Forced Proximity Romance; Enemies to Lovers Romance; USA Today bestselling author; Laugh out Loud romance; Humorous Romance; RomCom; new romance; Harbor City; Hockey hero; Winter Cabin; Stranded; Blogger
ISBN: 9781682814888
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC (Amara)
Published: 2020-06-05T02:33:52+00:00

Chapter Eleven

An hour later, Ian walked into the private room of the hotel’s restaurant to find he was the last to arrive. Everyone else was already at the table, enjoying appetizers and gabbing about the Phoenix players they’d be facing off against tomorrow.

Normally, he’d be all on board for some pregame smack talk, but that would be all it would be for him because of his stupid thumb injury. He wasn’t even wearing a brace anymore, just some wimpy little bandages that declared what a dumbass he was for tripping over his own big feet. It barely hurt anymore; he had range of motion back—okay, mostly back. All he had to do was talk Doc into giving him the okay.

How hard could that be?

Spotting the free seat by the team doc, Ian made his way over to the table. It had to be a sign from above. This was gonna happen. He was getting back on the ice, and then that nagging sense of not being enough would shut the fuck up.

“Heya, Doc.” Ian pulled out the empty chair. “Anyone sitting here?”

Doc, an older guy with not even a hint of hair on his perfectly round pale-pink head, looked up at him. “Not you, I’m afraid.”

What the hell? How had he turned an affable guy like Doc against him?

Before he could ask, Lucy walked up with Freya in her arms. The chubby little baby gave him a huge gummy smile, showing off one tooth starting to come in.

“What Doc means is that your reservation is for that table over there.” Lucy pointed to a three-person table in the corner.

One that Christensen and Shelby were already sitting at. Shelby was listening to whatever bullshit story Christensen was telling her with utter rapt attention, a soft smile crinkling the corners of her eyes. Ian was grinding his molars together before he even took the first step toward them.

Christensen was like this with every woman. It had barely registered with Ian until now—until Shelby. Gaze locked on Shelby, the way her lips had curled into a half smile as if Christensen was the most fascinating person ever, he marched past the long table of Ice Knights players who weren’t in PR hell.

“Have fun at the little kids’ table, Petrov,” said Stuckey, a defenseman who was a constant smart-ass when he wasn’t on the phone with his girlfriend or telling the team stories about the horse of a Great Dane they shared.

“Are you ever going to stop being in a shit-ass mood?” asked Phillips, the team Thor look-alike.

“Not until I’m on the ice,” he shot back as he strode past, barely slowing in his speed as he watched Shelby lean in closer to Christensen to take a look at whatever it was he was showing her on his phone.

“Have pity on us, Doc,” the team captain, Zach Blackburn, hollered from his place at the head of the big table. “Clear the asshole.”

“Don’t drag me into this, boys,” Doc said. “The body heals when it heals.

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