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)
“It’s my favorite type of tree,” I told her and took my phone out of my jeans pocket.
“Really,” she said, “have you ever seen the cherry blossom trees in Japan?” I shook my head. “You would fall in love. But I don’t think you’ll ever get to witness it because it happens at the end of March to the beginning of April, which is when the season is in overdrive.”
“I’ll add it to my list of things I want to do when I’m retired,” I told her and then pressed play on the song she played in the car. “Now, what I want right now is for you to dance with me.” All the while making sure she knew that I was all in this. Making sure she never regretted what we had.
I held out my empty hand for her and she put her hand in mine before I pulled her to me and there, under the willow tree, I danced with her.
The minute the plane takes off, I put my seat back and close my eyes, falling asleep right away.
The flight is four hours and I wake up as the plane touches down. I grab my phone right away and turn off airplane mode before putting on my suit jacket.
I see a couple of texts that came in while I was in the air, but none from Ariella.
Me: Just landed in Nashville.
Aphrodite: Oh, are you playing my cousin Stone? Say hi for me.
I’m about to answer her when she replies right away.
Aphrodite: Actually, don’t say hi for me because then he’s going to have all these questions about when did you see me and all that jazz.
Me: All that jazz?
Aphrodite: It’s a saying, Jaxon. Don’t you have to go sharpen your skates or something?
I laugh and shake my head as I hear the guys around me start to get up.
Me: I’ll call you when I get to the hotel.
Aphrodite: Call me, what is this two thousand and four? Text me.
“What are you smiling about?” Kirby asks, getting up and opening the overhead bin to grab his bag.
I stand up in the aisle, putting my phone away, and grabbing my own bag. “No reason.”
“It’s a girl.” He smirks and gives me a smile, along with a chin lift. “Wait, I thought you and Tiffany just broke up?”
“Affirmative.” I see him look up at the ceiling of the plane. “Very fucking affirmative.”
“You really done with her?” he asks me.
“She called my mother to complain about me.” I bring up just that. “Who the fuck does that?” His eyes look like they are going to come out of his sockets. “That’s just one of the many reasons we are done.”
“Angela is going to be pissed,” he mentions his girlfriend.
“I’m sorry for Angela, but it’s safe to say it’s officially fucking over with Tiffany.”
“So is this girl someone you are into”—he snickers—“or are you just banging her?”
My look turns to ice. “Watch the mouth, yeah?” I warn and his eyebrows go up.
“Shit, this is serious.”
“Yeah, pretty much.” I grab my bag. “Also fucking private, so keep it to yourself.” I look around to make sure no one else is eavesdropping into the conversation.
“Got it. Although”—he looks around also making sure—“Angela did get a call from Tiffany saying she caught you with a pu—” I tilt my head, stopping him from talking—“someone in your house.”
“Fuck,” I hiss, “of course she did. I feel like I’m in high school all over again.”
“Sorry, man.”
“Not your fault, but just so we’re on the same page, I’ve known this girl all my life. We reconnected a couple of weeks ago.” I smile when I think of her. “It’s safe to say, it’s really fucking serious.”
“No shit?” His face fills with a smile and I can see he’s happy for me.
“No shit,” I confirm, turning and walking off the plane and heading toward the waiting bus that will take us to the hotel, once our bags are transferred. Then tomorrow to the arena and then back to the airport.
I sit down and Kirby sits beside me. “I’ll tell Angela to lay off,” he mumbles, “but her and Tiffany, they were tight.”
“They can still be tight.” I look around, not wanting to have this conversation with him, but knowing I need to. “But she’s going to be around, and I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable.”
“Of course not,” he scoffs. “No fucking way that happens, and if it does, I’m going to be really pissed.”
“Thanks, man. What are the odds we win both games?” I ask him, changing the subject.
“Fifty-fifty,” he offers as the door to the bus closes and we take off.
We arrive at the hotel and step into the lobby, grabbing the key cards from them before the bags are brought in. All the guys grab their bags as we head our separate ways. A couple of the guys chat about hitting up the gym, but all I want to do is get to my room.