Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 81248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
I take a step when Westly reaches out and stops me. “You’ve helped me twice now, Jasper. Sure there’s nothing I can do to help you?” His tone is heavy with suggestion, and I’m sure I know what he’s hinting at.
I cringe. “Dave mentioned I need a date, didn’t he?”
“It might have come up.”
I shake my head. “Forget it. I’m canceling.”
“Wow. You really don’t like asking for help, do you?”
I let out a massive exhale. “Fine. Maybe I could use your help.”
“What do you need?”
“Ezra Palaszczuk.”
Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. A scowl crosses Westly’s face as he tenses up again. “What do you need from him?”
“I know Ezra is out and single—according to Dave anyway—and, well … I know it’s a long shot, but you’ve got to admit that showing up with him would shock them. The scrawny guy they used to throw in the dumpster behind the school and try to drown in the toilet stall grew up to be successful and is involved with someone they would idolize purely because he’s a pro hockey player. And now that I’ve said it out loud, it sounds petty, and maybe just forget it.”
Westly stares at the counter, absentmindedly rubbing his shoulder while he thinks. “Well … the whole ‘causing a scene’ thing is right in Ezra’s wheelhouse.”
It … almost sounds like he’s considering it.
“His schedule might be a problem, but …” He pauses. “Ezra does owe me. Big-time.”
“You’ll ask?” No fucking way. I’d been sure he was going to laugh in my face.
He hesitates again but then nods. “I’ll ask.”
I stamp down my excitement. “If he says no, it’s not a problem. It was worth a try.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Westly’s coffee is called, and we both hesitate for a moment before I shoot him a stiff smile.
“Good luck with your sister.”
“Thanks.”
I leave before he can say anything else.
7
Westly
I stare at Ez’s number on my phone and will myself to call it, but I can’t. Ezra and I, our history is … questionable. Best friends, fuck buddies, open relationship? There never seemed to be a perfect term for what we were.
When all the family shit went down, and I was suddenly attending funerals and moving back to Vermont, it didn’t make sense to carry on whatever we were doing. So I ended it.
Maybe, foolishly, I thought he would come after me. Stupid considering it was in the middle of the season, and he contractually couldn’t. Boston let me out of my contract early, a rarity, but team management was understanding of my situation.
I might have been delusional about what Ezra and I had. No matter what crazy shit we got up to, Ezra was the one stable thing in my hockey life. I never told him that though.
The thing with Ezra Palaszczuk is he has Peter Pan syndrome. He never wants to grow up, he’ll never settle down, and just like me, he’ll sleep with anything that moves … sorry, any dude that moves.
A few months ago, he chose Asher to warm his bed, and I haven’t spoken to him since.
We’d never had rules before, and we were no longer together, but I kind of figured there was an unspoken code that my brother was off-limits.
I want to be mad at them both for it, but I have too much other shit to be mad at. Like why the smoke detector in our kitchen hates me. Or why laundry doesn’t fold itself.
Ezra was once upon a time the most important person in my life. I should call him. I still consider him a friend, even if things are weird right now. And if I ask him this favor, I know he’ll do it, schedule permitting. And maybe that’s the real reason I’m hesitating. The thought of Ezra going out with Jasper makes me feel ill, and I don’t know why.
I was expecting Jasper to ask me to go to his reunion, and when Ezra’s name fell from his mouth, I didn’t know how to react. But Ezra is the logical choice.
Then why won’t I call him?
I think of the small snippets of what I’m sure was a horrific high school experience for Jasper, and I want to go myself and beat the ever-loving shit out of each and every one of his tormentors.
Okay, maybe not, because I faint at the sight of blood, and I’m not a fighter—ironic for a hockey player—but my point is with what Jasper went through, I can’t help associating it with what Hazel’s going through.
I’m helpless where she’s concerned, but this … I could do this. But I want to do it myself.
Getting out of an awkward conversation with my ex-slash-still-best-friend has nothing to do with it. Maybe.
So, on Monday morning, after I drop the kids off at school, I go straight to Jasper’s office.