Behind the Camera (Love through a Lens, #2)

by Chelsea Curto

He still has the same deep, rumbly voice. The same southern twang, drawing out the vowels in my name like he wants to hold them to his chest like a secret before he lets them go. The same curve of his mouth and the flicker of mischief in his eyes. Hell. He looks good.

Holy shit. Dallas is a dad. A girl dad, and she’s the cutest kid I’ve ever seen. I bite my bottom lip and hit the button for the fourth floor, grinning to myself as the elevator lurches up. This season just got a lot more fun.

“Can someone please tell me why we’re at a restaurant that serves chicken fingers and chocolate milk to children in sippy cups when we could be at the strip club?” Maverick Miller, captain of the D.C. Stars hockey team and one of my best friends, leans back in his chair and groans. “I’m miserable.”

Omg love Mavericks intro :)

“You do social media for the Titans,” Maverick argues. “Not insider trading. What the hell do you need to post at eight on a Wednesday night during the off season?” “Anything to keep our fans engaged,” Reid grumbles. “My boss has been up my ass lately.” “Ass,” June repeats, and I sigh, defeated. “Watch it,” I tell Reid.

Lol June

The door to Shawn’s office flies open. Someone tumbles inside, a flurry of limbs and blonde hair and irritated sighs. “Holy shit,” I whisper. “Did I just speak something into existence? Am I a prophet?”