Free The Workaholic and the Realist (New Hampshire Bears #2) by Mary Smith Page B

closed, my thought skimmed over many subjects, but stopped right on Keaton. A whole week has passed since we’d had sex. Of course, he had been gone with his hockey games. The time alone did make me miss him a bit. However, the truth was I missed his dick as much as him. He hadn’t really talked to me, minus his grunts and growls of sex.
    I considered him a friend, and I wished him well. We’ve spoken about his parents and even though I joked with him about college, I’d help in any way I could. Not to mention his book. I wanted to see him publish his work and make his dreams come true.
    And damn, I wanted his dick again.
     

     
    “I hate this fucking holiday. And you know what else, it’s dumb.”
    Maxima smiled. “All I asked was if you were doing anything for Valentine’s Day.”
    “And I just informed you.” I stepped off the treadmill at the gym and made my way to the locker room. “What are you doing?”
    “Now?” Maxima asked confused. “I’m getting ready to change.”
    I shook my head. I wondered how this girl could be so smart and such a ditz at the same time. “What are you doing Valentine’s Day?”
    “Oh,” her face turned as red as the paint on a fire truck. “Um…Remington and I are supposed to do something.”
    I stopped what I was going and pulled her down to the bench. “Tell. Me. Everything.”
    Maxima shrugged. “He asked, and I said yes.”
    “You’re so lying to me right now. I want the whole truth.”
    She glanced all around the locker room to avoid my eyes. “He and I have been chatting a bit. Mainly, it was about money and finances, but we’ve talked and well…” she trailed off.
    “Is this something serious?” I was intrigued, wanted to know more, and I couldn’t wait to force her to tell me.
    “We’re friends.”
    “But…” I waved her on to tell me more.
    She stared at me. “But what?”
    “Do you want more?”
    “He’s a friend.” Her face reddened again, and she tugged at the cuff of her over-sized sweatshirt.
    I gave up on pushing anymore. I really liked Maxima, and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. I knew she had no family, and I wasn’t convinced she had any other friends, but Meadow and me.
    Giving her a gentle squeeze of her hands, I smiled. “Well, he better treat you right, or I’ll shove his hockey stick up his ass and break it off.”
    Maxima turned from red to pale. “Harlow, you don’t need to resort to such violence.”
    “Let him hurt you and I’ll show you violence.”
     

     
    Valentine’s Day sucked when you were single. However, there was a plus side to those of us who enjoyed being single.
    I walked into a local bar, not too far from my house. The overly decorated room had hearts, balloons, streamers, and fake flowers, but all I cared for was the single men seeking out the lonely, desperate women.
    Little did they know I was a wolf to their sheep.
    I took a seat at the bar and ordered a white wine. I searched the bar, seeking out the one I planned to torture. Sure, I could’ve called Keaton and told him to come over, but on this day I was sure he would get the wrong impression. I didn’t want him to think I had any similarities to the females I observed at the bar.
    Even if there were some, I’d never admit to it.
    “Well, hello.”
    I glanced up at an older man, staring down my shirt. Jerk. “Hello.”
    “You seem to be lonely?” He finally looked up to my eyes. He had to be a few years older than me, slightly graying, with dark eyes, and a goatee.
    “Not really. I have my wine to keep my company.”
    He chuckled. “I’m sure I’m better than a glass of wine.”
    I allowed my eyes to very blatantly wander over his body. “Maybe.”
    “Gregory.” He held out his hand.
    “Harlow.” I took it gently in mine.
    Gregory waved down the bartender and ordered himself another beer.
    “So, Harlow, what’s a pretty lady like you doing alone on the holiday of love?”
    “I told you I’m not alone. Wine and I have