Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“Convenient.”
Sig and Burgess traded a withering look. “All right, Corrigan.” Sig sighed. “We’ve established this is a ridiculous situation you’ve put yourself in—”
“More ridiculous than spending every waking moment with your future stepsister?”
“Shut up,” Sig snapped. “We’re not talking about me. This is about you.”
“Convenient.”
“Yeah. Convenient,” Mailer said, backing Robbie up, even though he was still openly disgusted that Robbie liked someone. “Word of the day.”
“What is the actual plan, Corrigan?” Sig persisted. “A date or two? Just a nudge to get this catcher to pay attention?”
“I’m spending next week in Rhode Island with her family for a series of wilderness competitions. He’ll be there. All of us are duking it out over a Pepsi can trophy. Normal, everyday shit.”
Burgess’s laughter boomed through the entirety of the locker room, while Sig and Mailer donned various expressions of incredulity.
“I’m not even going to address the wilderness competition thing, but suffice it to say? What the fuck. Let’s focus on the rest. You’re helping her land another guy,” Sig enunciated. “But you like her, Corrigan.”
While this happened to be one of the most demoralizing moments of Robbie’s life, it was a necessary splash of cold water to the face. This plan he’d proposed to Skylar was crazy. If he liked her now, how much was he going to like her after a week? What the hell had he been thinking?
“Back out,” Mailer said, slashing a hand through the air. “Tell her you’re moving to France.”
“She’ll know I didn’t move. We play hockey on television, bro.”
Mailer shrugged. “Wear a disguise.”
“Okay, are we done here? I need to eat two lasagnas.”
“No, we’re not done.” Burgess stepped closer, poking Robbie in the collarbone with a finger that could have passed for a sandwich roll from Subway. “Next week is a light week, the lull before playoffs, but we’ve still got practice.”
“I’m going to drive in for practice!”
“Fine. But you think you’ll be worth a damn in playoffs if you’re moping because the girl you like is with someone else?” Sir Savage shook his head. “This is bad.”
“I concur, Captain.” Sig sighed.
“I’m not backing out. She needs the help.” Robbie begged himself to leave it at that, but obviously that line drive to the shoulder had knocked loose his sense of self-preservation. “I can’t have her writing me off as some womanizing asshole. I don’t think I realized that’s who I’m becoming until she wouldn’t even give me a chance. The worst part is, Grandpa Nick used to talk about this all the time. He said I’d meet a girl one day and she’d read me like a book, including the chapters that came before her. I didn’t listen. So . . . yeah. This is kind of my way of making it up to my grandfather, too.”
The other three men stayed quiet for way too long.
Sig and Burgess had twin expressions of grudging sympathy.
Mailer continued to look horrified.
“If you insist on doing this, you need to go in with the right mindset,” Sig said, quieter now. “The last thing you want is to love someone if they don’t return the feeling, you know?” Sig dipped his chin. “It’s fake. You have to remember that.”
Hope was beginning to transform Mailer’s features. As though he was realizing he might not lose his nightly wingman after all. “Once you’re done shaking off this psychosis, I’ll be right here waiting with a variety of women to console you.”
Wow. That didn’t sound all that appealing, suddenly. Should I be scared right now? “So, just to recap, Mailer. You’re not hot for the new GM anymore?”
Flinch. “Again, I don’t want to talk about it.”
Robbie rolled his eyes. “All right, look. I’m not suffering from some delusion that she’ll change her mind and want me instead. You should see her talk about him.” He laughed, but the sound verged on deflated. “She’ll never talk about me like that. I’ve managed my expectations. I will come out of this unscathed. And more importantly, single.”
Mailer bashed his fist against the locker and cheered.
Sig and Burgess looked dubious.
Robbie managed to keep his smile intact through two lasagnas and three episodes of Reacher, but when he got into bed that night and stared at the ceiling, seeing nothing but challenging brown eyes, the smile was long gone.
Chapter Seven
“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
Skylar idled outside of a luxury high-rise in East Cambridge, her fingers clutched tightly around the steering wheel. Those digits only stiffened when Robbie Corrigan emerged through the double glass doors with a bag thrown over his shoulder, the picture of casual in loose, navy-blue sweatpants, slides, and a hoodie. A black ballcap was pulled low over his forehead, his red hair fanned out around the sides. He scanned the circular driveway in front of the building where plenty of other drivers waited to ferry residents to work on the other side of the Longfellow Bridge.