Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
“I know.” I just kind of wish he’d accept the possibility of me and Archer now. I don’t want our relationship to be something he accepts only because he realizes he has no choice. Maybe I’m asking too much, but I want it to be because he loves us both and wants us happy. Is that so wrong?
“On the bus, Graves!” Coach Lariat shouts at Archer.
I sigh, turning my face up to him for him to kiss me. He does, so thoroughly I forget that the whole team can see us.
They clap and whistle and catcall like the overgrown little boys they are.
Archer flips them off before Coach yells at them to get their asses on the bus before they piss him off.
I bury my face in Archer’s chest, laughing. “He’s cranky this morning.”
“Baby, Lariat is cranky every goddamn morning. It’s his permanent state of existence. Especially since he found out Nash is sleeping with his daughter.” He kisses me again before reluctantly releasing me. “I’ll be home on Sunday.”
“Okay. I love you.”
His expression softens. “I love you too.”
He turns and jogs toward the bus, only to stop at the door and look back at me. I lift my hand in a little wave. It’s ridiculous, but I already miss him. Away games suck. This is the third one since Vegas, and they suck a little more every time.
I lean against his car, waiting for everyone to file onto the bus. But instead of Joaquin climbing on, he steps aside, allowing Micah to jump off.
“Rushing, where the fuck are you going?” Coach growls.
I don’t hear Micah’s response, but he stalks in my direction. My heart stops beating for a minute before it starts again.
My brother stops in front of me, hands shoved into his pockets. “Hey,” he mutters.
“Hi,” I whisper back, wringing my hands together. “Um…”
“Fuck.” He yanks his hands out of his pockets, reaching for me.
I choke on a sob as his arms close around me, hauling me up against his chest for a hug. “I miss you so much,” I cry. “I hate fighting with you.”
“Don’t like it much either, baby sister,” he says, squeezing me tight.
“Then stop breaking my heart!” I tip my head back, staring up at him with tears in my eyes. “This is so stupid, Micah. Why can’t you just be happy for us?”
“Because I’m an asshole,” he mutters, guilt stamped all over his face. “I’m sorry, Wren.”
“M-me too.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, kid. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He sighs heavily. “I’m the one who hurt your feelings.”
“Yeah, you did.” I sniffle. “I’m not that reckless little girl anymore. Why can’t you see that?”
“I do see it. But hockey is his life, Wren. I don’t want you settling for someone who puts you second. What you need has always come behind this damn game. It shouldn’t be like that for the rest of your life.”
“You don’t know him as well as you think you do if you think that,” I whisper. “I don’t come second to him, Micah. He cares about me in a way no one ever has. He l-loves me in a way no one else ever will. And I feel the same way about him. Why can’t that be enough for you?”
“You love him?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck.” Micah shoves a hand through his hair. “How the fuck did I miss this happening?”
“Because we didn’t want you to know,” I say quietly, swiping at my eyes. “We tried so hard to pretend we could ignore it because we didn’t want to hurt you. But that isn’t fair to either one of us. We deserve to be happy too, and that exists outside of your friendship with him. One way or another, we would have found our way to each other.”
Micah stares at me for a long moment and then sighs. “Give me time, Wren. Okay? Just…give me time to wrap my head around this shit.”
I nod dejectedly. That isn’t the answer I want. I want him back in my life. I want him to be happy for us. But…this is a start. It’s better than not speaking at all. It’s better than angry words and ignored calls and irrational demands.
“Love you, baby sister,” he murmurs, hugging me again.
“Love you too.” I squeeze him hard and then step back. “Good luck in Detroit.”
He jerks his chin in a nod and then jogs back to the bus. Just like Archer, he pauses at the bottom of the steps and glances back at me. But he doesn’t wave. He just pauses for a moment before jogging up the steps and disappearing onto the bus.
Tears spill down my cheeks.
Not even three seconds later, Archer leaps off the bus.
“Graves, what the fuck?” Coach growls.
“Just a second, Coach,” Archer says, not even sparing him a glance as he jogs across the pavement toward me. He takes one look at my face and then pulls me into his arms. “I’ve got you, baby.”