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)
He loved her, that was all there was to it, and he was never, ever going back.
He held her like that until the rain stopped, trying to shake the creeping worry that the storm wasn’t completely over yet.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Robbie got the call as they were walking hand in hand up the driveway looking like they’d just survived a week in a tropical rainforest.
“Shit.” He looked down at the screen of his phone. “It’s one of the coaching assistants. Hauer. This dude never has good news.”
“What could it be?”
“I don’t know. Last time he called me, it was to set up a meeting with human resources over an offensive sweatshirt I’d been photographed wearing.”
She raised a brow. “Offensive how?”
“Uh.” He brought her tightly held hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “Don’t worry about it.”
Skylar decided to let that mystery go unsolved for now. Her knees were still weak from what they’d done in the forest. Maybe when an orgasm was so intense it rendered a woman punch-drunk, she deserved a certain leniency. “You better answer the call.”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat, brought the phone to his ear. “Hey, Hauer.”
Skylar studied Robbie while he listened intently to whatever was being said on the other end of the line. Whatever it was, he didn’t seem happy about it, although his body language was more resigned than angry. Then and there, she decided that whatever the call was about, she wouldn’t let it disrupt this perfect state of . . . togetherness. Perhaps words spoken in the heat of the moment couldn’t be deemed official, but it seemed like they were really doing this. They were on their way to being a couple, an outcome she couldn’t have foreseen in her wildest imagination.
Robbie and Skylar.
Skylar and Robbie.
Together for real?
Yes, it seemed so, but . . . they were far removed from Boston this week. She couldn’t help but hold on to some trepidation that they could make this work once they returned to real life, but she was there to try, dammit. She was there to give it her everything, because she couldn’t envision a world where they went back to Boston and didn’t see each other. Being near Robbie, talking to him, feeling his skin on her skin had fast become a given. He was well worth fighting the doubt. They were worth it. The thought of living a totally separate life from him after this week made her wet clothes feel colder. Icier.
Can’t do it.
Even with the newfound confidence she’d earned this week throughout the Page Stakes, their family breakthrough, and her private lessons in love with Robbie, there was still the tiniest voice in the back of her head making her question how long she would be enough. Old hang-ups were hard to break.
Skylar shook herself free of the conflicting thoughts when Robbie hung up the phone. “Bad news. Coach called a last-minute practice tonight. Apparently, he’s been living in the offices watching game tapes on the Oilers and he’s mounting a new strategy. He wants us on the ice by seven.”
“Meaning you’d need to leave . . .” She went up on her toes to read the time off the screen of Robbie’s phone. “Like, now.”
“Like, now.” He let his head fall back. “No, Rocket. The talent show.”
Having seen these regrets coming, she was already shaking her head. “Stop. We’ll reschedule it or compete another time. You can’t miss practice. Not right before playoffs.” Ignoring the useless disappointment in her middle, she hooked her arm through the crook of his elbow and tugged him toward the house. “Come on, you can borrow my car again. I’ll put together some snacks for the drive while you pack up.”
“Who knows me like you?” She tossed him up a smile, but it dimmed when she found him looking down at her with unfiltered intensity. “You’re not even going to make me feel guilty about leaving, are you?”
Surprise slowed her steps. “What? No. Of course not.” Following instinct, she leaned in and kissed the valley between his pecs, which, thanks to his sodden clothing, were prominently displayed. If only the talent show were a wet T-shirt contest. They’d win by a landslide. “You play a sport. Competitively. Inconvenience . . . and FOMO is part of the deal. That’s how we got to where we are. We missed stuff in order to practice.”
“Missing stuff that involves you is different.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Redbeard.” Ignoring the subtle weight of uncertainty on her chest, Skylar continued. “If we’re going to . . . to do this . . . us . . .”
Robbie’s jaw flexed. “Oh, we’re doing us.”
“Okay, well, we’re going to have scheduling conflicts. Probably a lot of them. Let’s start being understanding about it now.”
“Skylar.” He seemed at a loss for words, tucking the same strands of hair behind her ear over and over, even when they had been well and truly tucked. “I don’t know if I’ve mentioned that I’m fucking crazy about you.”