Preston Playz Book Mga Nobela at Kwento

"We have a playbook." "I know," Terry said, a faint, tired trace of his usual smirk returning to his lips, though it didn't reach his eyes. He reached out, his massive hand hovering in the space between them for a fraction of a second before he gently let his knuckles brush against the fabric of her trousers, just above her knee. The heat of the contact bled through the linen instantly. "But we're playing the Vipers tonight in their own barn, Eve. And when the puck drops, the playbook usually goes straight out the window."