Free The Aubrey Rules by Aven Ellis Page B

down and pushing up the sleeve on his sweater to reveal his watch, “I’m going to see how long you can last without saying a word.”
    “What? This is ridiculous. Contrary to what you believe, I’m capable of being silent.”
    “Sure.”
    “I can,” I say defiantly.
    “Let’s see how long before you crack under the pressure of silence? Okay, starting . . . now.”
    I open my mouth to speak but then zip it shut. Beckett stares at me, grinning, and I’m desperately trying not to laugh. I avoid his eyes, but I feel them on my face. When I turn back to him, he’s still locked in this intense gaze, but the seriousness of it is betrayed by the smile on his handsome face.
    I can’t take it and burst out laughing. “Okay, stop staring at me!”
    “You’re easy to crack,” he says, laughing.
    “Is this what you do to opponents? Stare them down?”
    “Nah, I chirp at them.”
    “What? Chirp? ” I ask, laughing. “What the hell does that even mean?”
    “Chirp, you know, get under their skin with comments.” A quizzical expression passes over his face. “You really are the perfect person to handle my account because you don’t know anything about hockey, do you?”
    Right. His social media expert. And despite all this banter and conversation, that’s what I really am, aren’t I?
    My chest draws tight from his words, but I force a smile on my face. “I know zero, but you could have Mallory handle your account. She’s experienced.”
    Beckett groans. “No. No way. She’s fake. I can only imagine what her tweets would be like. I’d sound like an idiot.”
    Once again, I should say nothing. I should be professional, back up her expertise, all that crap.
    But I can’t do that to Beckett.
    “She’s a bitch,” I blurt out.
    Beckett studies me. “You’ve only worked there a day.”
    “I don’t care, I call it like I see it.” I sit forward on the couch, growing more animated as I think about this. “The first thing she did? Warned me that I’m going to pay my dues. She made me bring her breakfast. She rejected the banana I got because it had too many spots. Who the hell does that? I also had to get her lunch. She only eats boring bland foods and she says she hates bread but she needs to eat five freaking pies because she’s crabby from only eating foods that taste like cardboard. And she stares at shoes all day on the Internet, too, which is ridiculous considering her title and I—”
    And as I’m telling my story, I accidentally wave my arm out and smack Beckett in the side of the face.
    “Oh!” My hands fly to my mouth. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”
    Beckett rubs his hand across his jawline, where I clipped him with my hand.
    “First you call me a smart ass and now you hit me in the face?”
    My cheeks are on fire. “I’m, so, so sorry. I talk with my hands and I got overdramatic.”
    Beckett flashes me that crooked grin. “It’s okay, I get punched in the face for a living, remember? It’s fine.”
    I peer closer at him, and to my horror, I see I’ve scratched him with my ring.
    “You’re bleeding,” I say, mortified. And before I even think what I’m going, I brush my fingers against his face.
    The second I do, Beckett’s eyes widen in shock. I freeze. I’ve touched him. Shit, I never should have touched him. Panic fills me and I go to jerk my hand away, but as I do, Beckett reaches up grabs my wrist.
    I can’t breathe. Butterflies are swirling at a manic pace. My heart is about to explode inside my chest.
    Right now I’m inches from him. His dark-brown eyes are locked on mine. I shift my gaze to his lips, his gorgeous, full lips that I desperately want to feel against my own.
    He’s still holding my wrist in his hand, his fingertips gliding back and forth across it in a sexy way that is making every nerve I have tingle with desire.
    Then he slowly puts my hand down, releasing his grip.
    The moment is over.
    But that moment told me everything I needed to know.
    He’s