"Deliciously real, modern, hot, and funny." —New York Times bestselling author Katy Evans
Want You to Want Me, a sexy friends-to-lovers contemporary romance from New York Times bestselling author Lorelei James is available now!
Hockey player Gabriella “Gabi” Welk spent her life in pursuit of championships, but she has little to show for it besides dusty trophies and second-place medals. Now her career consists of several part-time jobs to make ends meet. When Gabi gets a chance at her dream job, she swallows her pride and asks her nemesis—smart, sexy and savvy Nolan Lund—for help.
Since being named future CEO of Lund Industries, Nolan has tried hard to overcome his reputation as a fun-loving playboy and ladies’ man. For the first time ever, he’s more focused on the company than his personal life. He spends his free time at the ice rink his brother owns, cheering on his niece at her hockey games…and watching Gabriella Welk, the superstar athlete and assistant coach who gets under his skin in a way he can’t ignore. He’s shocked when Gabi agrees to trade a favor for a favor.
They have little in common besides their mutual mistrust, but between family crises and sibling rivalries, Nolan and Gabi realize they want to be more than just friends—much more.
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“What?”
“The first random text you sent me. Christ. That might’ve been the corniest joke I’d ever heard, but I laughed my ass off for like five minutes. I’d had a shit day, I was still at work, feeling alone and pissy, and then your text pinged. For a brief shining moment, I knew someone in the world was thinking about me.”
“For real?” she whispered.
“Absolutely for real.” I let my lips brush the top of her ear. “I kept it casual and friendly. Biding my time until . . .”
“Until what?”
“Until I could make it clear to you that I intended to take friendly to a whole new level with us.” Feathering my mouth between her cheekbone and her ear, I murmured, “So tell me, Gabriella, when was I supposed to do that this week? When you came to me in a panic on Monday? When I texted you and asked if you had time for lunch on Tuesday and you turned me down? Or when I stopped by the rink last night and you sent me packing? Or tonight when I stormed into the men’s locker room because I worried you were really hurt?”
“You . . .” A shiver rolled through her. “Stop whispering in my ear, goddammit, it’s making it hard to think.”
She rolled her shoulder—to get closer or to get away from me? I froze. Waiting. When she stayed put, I had the answer I needed.
And looky there, she’d also given me better access to that tempting neck. “Jesus, you smell good.”
“It’s just lotion.”
“It’s just you,” I half growled. “Have I mentioned that you were fucking magnificent on the ice tonight?”
“No . . . Oh god, that feels . . .” She moaned as I planted soft kisses down the front of her throat.
“Mmm. I want to do this all night. But I won’t, because you have a big day tomorrow. And I won’t add to your stress of that by keeping on about this, but we both know it’s been building toward this.” I nuzzled the skin below her ear. “Am I wrong?”
“No.”
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