Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 145731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Call me skeptical. “Gold in what way?”
“People like it, Rowan,” Jason says, completely serious. “The team likes it.”
“They like it?” I ask, like that’s a brand-new concept.
“Yeah, it’s that thing where other people enjoy things,” Wesley deadpans.
“Try it sometime,” Miles puts in.
I smile like a canary-eating cat. I’m this close to telling them right now that I plan to enjoy the hell out of the gala. That I won’t be ruining their good time. But I swallow down the words. I have to do this in the right order.
As a server arrives with the food and my smoothie, Wesley, Miles, and Tyler place bets on who can win a snowball fight, then take off to take their chances, leaving me with Jason.
“Can’t believe you brought me down here for that,” I say, nodding to the shirt, figuring it’s the perfect segue.
“I didn’t,” Jason says.
“What do you mean?”
“How’s it going? The whole practice-dating thing with Isla?”
Your sister’s fucking incredible, and I can’t stop thinking about her.
I hate lying to him, and I didn’t realize how much until now. But at least I can give her the credit she deserves for having put up with me. “I’m not an easy client,” I begin.
Jason snorts. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“I’ve been a pain in her ass from day one. I’ve put up roadblocks, devised excuses, and argued.”
“I’m shocked.”
“And even though I’ve tried to sabotage pretty much everything, she keeps trying harder to help. I’m learning dating stuff. Like how to open up. Be real.”
There. That felt intensely fucking vulnerable to admit too.
Jason smiles, then claps me on the back. “That’s great. Rome wasn’t built in a day, but I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks,” I say, then drink some of the smoothie. Liquid courage and all for the next thing I need to say. When I set it down, I dive right in. “And since I haven’t met anyone I’ve clicked with, and since we get along well, I figured I’d take her to the gala.” I glance around, making sure the pranksters are completely out of earshot. “Sort of like another practice-date. But I’m going to tell all those jackasses that we’re dating.” I drop my voice another notch. “It’s really fake though, like one of your parents’ Tinsel Takes top picks. That’s only for you to know.”
His eyes pop. “Damn, I didn’t see that coming, but that’s a brilliant solution.” His approving grin disappears though, and his eyes flicker with real concern. “How the hell are you going to find something real then?”
And that went south fast. But I’ve got to be as honest as I can. “Dude, you and the guys got me a matchmaking package. I used it. I don’t want a relationship. Isla and I are friends though. That’s got to count for something. This is the best I can do. Take the win, okay?”
He sighs in defeat. “Seriously? I thought you were opening up to finding the one.”
Have I opened up? Maybe every now and then I start to think love might not suck so bad. Maybe occasionally I catch a glimpse of what it means to trust someone again. Possibly, I can see what it’s like to share a bit of my life with someone who has a big, open heart. I’m also starting to tolerate Christmas a little.
But none of those are the same as wanting a big love. “Love isn’t for everyone, Jason. Some of us are just fine with hockey and family.”
He’s quiet for a beat, then he holds up his hands in surrender. “All right. I hear you. No more pushing.”
My gut twists. He made such an effort. But at least I’m not going to grinch my way through anyone’s gala now. I have to give him something though. “And I’m going to get a tree for Mia. Isla’s going with me.”
“Well,” Jason says, approval twinkling in his eyes, “I guess a little social interaction is doing you some good.”
I wish there were something I could do for Jason to make up for…well, my lies of omission. But then, my putting effort into the competition is something he’s wanted. “Tell you what—I’ll wear this shirt to the competition today.”
“Damn right you will,” he says, then his eyes narrow, and I can tell his big brain is putting pieces of a puzzle together. “You know what? Natalie’s coming by to get the kids. Let’s tell the guys now. I can’t wait to see their faces.”
Funny thing—I can’t wait either. Once his wife pops in, I say hi, then glance toward the back of the shop, imagining the patio beyond.
I didn’t defile it last night, but I did use it after hours. A little minor trespassing.
“I’ll meet you outside,” I say to Jason, then head to the counter and stuff a hundred-dollar bill in the tip jar.