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)
“The games feed our competitive spirit. They’re ours,” Vivica insisted, but her eyes held a note of worry as she regarded her daughter. “Skylar, you enjoy them, don’t you?”
“I don’t know,” Skylar said hesitantly, her voice muffled by Robbie’s neck. “I guess I don’t know anymore.”
Several seconds of silence passed.
Madden observed the ground, while Elton stared at his sister, as if trying to solve a puzzle. And Robbie was caught off guard by his own concern for the family. All of them. Maybe he’d been insensitive by pointing out the fatal Page flaws this morning. He didn’t regret it, though. His concern was Skylar and anything that had the potential to hurt her, physically or emotionally, needed to be addressed.
This is what Sig meant. About no one working harder to make her happy. I get it.
Holy shit. I’m capable of learning.
“We talk about these games all year, Sky,” Elton said finally, appearing baffled, but veering toward concerned, like his mother. “We look forward to them.”
In Robbie’s arms, Skylar’s chest was beginning to shudder up and down, her wide eyes flitting between the members of her family. Ah shit, he’d put her in a bad position. And what if he was wrong, to boot? Had he imagined Skylar’s forced enjoyment of this yearly competition? Had he dreamed her exhaustive need to keep up, prove herself, when all she needed was someone to hug her and say I love you, win or lose?
“I used to love them,” Skylar murmured, finally. “Maybe I still do, because we do them together, but I feel useless when I lose. I feel useless when I don’t do everything at the highest level. And maintain it.”
“You could never be useless,” Vivica breathed, visibly horrified.
“We’ve always believed in pushing our children,” Doug tacked on, though his voice held a note of uncertainty. “It’s what bonded us in the first place. Instilling a drive to succeed, not merely compete.”
“She has already succeeded,” Robbie said firmly, drawing her tighter to his chest. “Everyone needs to have their hard work acknowledged once in a while. That’s why we have the ESPY Awards.” He pressed his mouth to her hair. “Speaking of which, will you be my date this year? Mailer looks like shit in a dress.”
Caught off guard, Skylar laughed, and warmth flooded Robbie’s body. Enough to drown in. “I’ll think about it.”
“Fair enough.”
“Skylar . . .” Doug cleared his throat so hard, a flock of birds went screeching from a nearby tree. “We’re very proud of you, if we haven’t made that clear.” His attention lingered on the Boston University T-shirt hanging from Robbie’s back pocket. “In hindsight, I see we’ve missed an opportunity to congratulate you on your achievements and instead focused on—”
“What I failed to do,” Skylar rushed to say. “I know. I . . . if I could get a second chance, I’d—”
“Skylar, no.” Vivica covered her eyes. “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t be lamenting the fact that you got into an amazing school. I didn’t realize we’d made you feel like a failure by not . . . by not—”
“By talking about Brown like it’s the only institution worth a damn.” Elton scrubbed at his five-o’clock shadow. “Damn. I’m sorry, Sky.”
“We’re sorry,” Doug said, sounding dazed.
Vivica nodded, seeming unable to speak.
“Do you want to forgive them, Rocket? Or think about it?”
“Forgive them,” she said, her eyes welling.
Everyone converged on Robbie at once, even Madden, both him and Skylar absorbed in a group hug that couldn’t have been more unnatural or awkward if it tried, but at least it was genuine. Skylar was getting the comfort and love she needed. That’s what mattered most. That’s what would always matter most. But speaking of her needs, his girl was shivering and that wasn’t going to work for Robbie.
“I need to get Skylar somewhere warm. A shower. Now.” He scooped her up into his arms, towels and all, pointedly ignoring her when she insisted she could walk. “No.”
She started to argue, then visibly decided against it, her head flopping exhaustedly onto his shoulder. “Okay.”
Skylar’s uncharacteristic surrender got his feet moving, as well as his adrenaline. Again. “Was that lake cold enough to give someone hypothermia?”
“I don’t have hypothermia.”
“You say this while your teeth are chattering.”
“That’s partially due to the lingering terror.”
Robbie stumbled a little on his march through the trees, almost like he’d blown a fuse, his human electricity flickering off and on. All because he was thinking of Skylar terrified. A cold sweat clung to his skin now and he had tunnel vision. Get her to the house, warm her up, tuck her into bed with some soup. That was the game plan. Oh God. Every time the adrenaline started to subside a little, the fact that his legs had gone weak became more obvious. “Partially?”
She blinked up at him and he could hardly decipher her expression. Was that . . . awe? “Maybe I’m shaking a little because I’ve never had someone see me as clearly as you do. Thank you, Robbie. For that.”