Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113130 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113130 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
“Oh yeah?” She gets into the SUV and waits for me. “Why do you say that?”
“Because I loved playing in the yard when I was younger,” I tell her. “My father chasing me, it was everything. The tree house that he had built.”
“That tree house was the bomb,” she remembers, reaching over and grabbing my hand. “I like the neighborhood Zoey is in.”
“So I’ll call the realtor.”
“Just like that?” she asks me.
“Just like that,” I confirm. “We also have to think about announcing on social media that I’m having a baby.”
“I know. If you want, Gabriella can take photos of us and we can post it next week on your page.”
“Set it up,” I tell her and she looks at me shocked. “What’s wrong with you?”
“You’ve never posted with a girl on your social media, and now you’re all ‘let’s hard launch my girlfriend and my kid.’” I bring her hand to my mouth and kiss her fingers.
“I think there was a picture of Tiffany on there she made me post.” I look over at her. “But I am not sure. If it’s there, I’ll delete it, but I know we went to a couple events and stuff.”
“Jaxon,” she says, “I know you were with her, so I don’t care.”
“I care,” I declare as I pull into the underground parking lot. “People might search my name and her picture will be there.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have been with a psycho.” She winks at me. “Kidding, it’s going to be okay.”
“Promise?” I look over at her.
“Absolutely”—she laughs—“not.” She laughs even louder. “You might have to explain it to our kids though.”
“Great.” I park and turn off the SUV as I wait for her behind the truck, sliding my hand with hers as a couple of the players arrive.
“Guys, this is my girlfriend, Ariella,” I introduce her with a smile on my face and one on hers as she shakes hands with the guys. “Her father is Ralph Weber,” I add so they know she’s been family for a while.
“No way,” one of the guys says, “he scouted me from my school.”
“No way,” she replies and all I can do is look down at her. “I’ll tell him I saw you.”
“We should take a picture,” he suggests and I side-eye him. “I won’t post it on social media.”
“I don’t care about that, but if you think you’re taking a selfie with my girl, you have another think coming,” I tell him and he laughs. “She can be in the middle, and make sure that your arm is hovering above her and not touching her. I would hate to have to break your hand and have you out of the game,” he offers me as he takes a picture of us with my arm around her shoulders, pulled up against me. He isn’t even touching her.
“I’ll send it to him,” he says, walking away, shaking his head the whole time.
“Ready to hit the ice?” I ask her and she nods at me.
“Will you hold my hand?” she asks me, standing in front of me and I pull her to me, my hand going to her ass. “Don’t you dare,” she warns, but I squeeze it anyway since I know no one is around.
“Fine,” I hiss out, “let’s get our skate on.” I look over at her and she side-eyes me. “And get my name on you.”
thirty-three
Ariella
“Come and see where the magic happens.” He pulls me to his side as we make our way down the hallway.
“I thought that was at home.” I look up at him and can’t help but laugh when he rolls his eyes. “You walked into that joke and you know it.”
“That magic is anywhere you are, baby,” he mumbles before lifting our connected hands to his lips and kissing my fingers.
“Smooth,” I say as he stops by the room that has people walking in and out of it. A couple of people give him the whole chin up, while a couple say hello as they walk the other way, then look at me and smile, saying they’ll catch up in a bit.
“You can’t step on the logo,” he warns me and I shake my head. The locker room usually has the logo in the middle of the room and it’s notoriously known that you cannot step on it at any time. No one can, and if they catch you, rumor has it you’re banned for life. I don’t know if it actually happens because I’ve never met anyone who was brave enough—or stupid enough—to do it, but it’s a bad, bad thing.
“You act like I haven’t been in hockey my whole life,” I retort as he walks into the locker room. I see a couple of the kids running around on their skates. I can’t help but smile, the memories of us when we were younger come flooding back. “Like, this is the first time I’ve stepped into a locker room. Remember when we used to go skating with everyone and then have pizza right after?” I ask him and he nods. “And the hot chocolate. Nico would make sure they used just milk and a milk chocolate bar. With real marshmallows. Remind me to have you stop on your way home. I think I got my first craving.”