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)
“At the time, maybe I did, but I didn’t know what it was going to feel like to meet Skylar yet. Okay? She’s the thing making me feel free, not the thing taking away my freedom.” He cursed under his breath. “Love isn’t what we thought it was, okay?”
“Love?” Mailer covered his face with both hands. “Christ. It’s worse than I imagined.”
“Yeah, no shit! It is pretty fucking bad, because she wants someone else and I’m trying to make something happen. Feels horrific, if I’m being honest, you dick.”
“Well, I’m sorry it feels horrific, cock wad.”
“Thank you!”
“You’re welcome.”
They shoved each other once more each.
Took a moment to regroup.
“At least come in for a beer.”
“Oh my God. No. I don’t want to see any girls in whipped cream bikinis. I only want to see Skylar in sweatpants.”
“You’ve been brainwashed,” Mailer whispered.
“What happened to you liking the new general manager, anyway? For a week, you couldn’t stop talking about her. Now you’re doubling down on this playboy lifestyle like it’s your job.”
Mailer’s face lost some of its color. “I asked her out. She told me she doesn’t date boys, she dates men. Then she closed her office door in my face and emailed me a copy of the organization’s nonfraternization policy.”
Robbie knew better than to show even a hint of sympathy. “Wow. She must be blind, because you’re a king.”
“I know, right?” There was some definite embarrassment mingled with a healthy heap of disappointment in Mailer’s expression, but he quickly banished it. “Anyway, it’s fine.” He jerked a head toward the apartment door. “I’ve got a deep enough roster, don’t I?”
Funny, Mailer didn’t look all that excited to go back into the apartment, either.
“You really going to move out?”
“Afraid so. But we’ll still have lasagna nights. At least twice a week.”
“Three and you’ve got a deal.”
“Sold.”
They fist-bumped.
It turned into a hug.
“Look. We don’t have to figure the living situation out tonight. I’m just going to head back to Rhode Island, so you can pick up where you left off.”
“Great,” Mailer muttered, making no move to enter the apartment. “Thanks.”
“Yeah.” After a brief hesitation, Robbie backed toward the elevator. “See you in a few days, man. Bye.”
“Bye.” Right before Robbie stepped into the elevator, Mailer shouted, “You got this, man. I believe in you.”
The elevator closed on Robbie’s grateful, if dubious, grin.
Chapter Twenty
Breakfast was a quiet affair.
The inside of Skylar’s head was not.
She stared down at her planner, which sat open beside her bowl of overnight oats. Already this morning, she’d pitched to the tree for an hour, showered, paced, and, most of all, tried to figure out what to tell everyone about Robbie.
He wasn’t coming back, meaning she no longer had a teammate.
Calling Eve to act as a temporary replacement was not an option. Not with everything she had on her plate, the imagined weight of which had kept Skylar awake half the night, trying to think of ways to help. She also knew getting Eve to accept any form of help would be the biggest obstacle. Eve didn’t take assistance very well. Waiting for Eve to ask for that help would be hard, but Skylar knew from experience there wasn’t another choice.
For now, the only option was to compete solo in the family competition. An unprecedented twist in Page Stakes lore, to be whispered about for years to come.
Elton would have a field day with this. She could already hear her brother’s smug comments. No doubt, everything out of his mouth for the next two days would be variations of I told you so. Her parents were allergic to expressing sympathy, so they’d feed her a bunch of platitudes, like What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Or You’ll be smarter next time. You’ve been given the gift of insight.
The other four people at the dining room table—Elton, Madden, and her parents, three of whom were wearing Brown University T-shirts—were beginning to notice her silence, so Skylar took a tasteless bite of cold oats and scribbled something unnecessary into her planner. She tried not to think about what Robbie was doing right now. Or who. It was approaching 8:00 a.m., meaning he was probably spread-eagle in a tangle of women, sleeping with a smile on his face.
Had he even enjoyed the time they spent together?
Or had he spent the whole time dreaming of wild nights in Boston?
Sensing eyes on her profile, Skylar turned to find Madden watching her with brows drawn, his own breakfast untouched in front of him, as well. He raised an eyebrow at her, as if to say, Are you okay?
Skylar nodded. Tell them your news, she mouthed.
He thought for a moment, then gave a curt shake of his head. Looked away.
The clock ticked.
The silence continued.
They were all waiting for Robbie to appear. According to the laminated schedule that had been posted on the refrigerator this morning, today’s challenge was the swim across the reservoir—and it started early. As if on cue, both her über punctual parents checked their waterproof watches and exchanged a knowing glance, clearly beginning to grow stressed by the missing competitor.