Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
“Have a seat,” he says, waving his hand over the chair on the other side of his desk.
“I’m still a bit wet.”
“Sit, son.”
I don’t protest this time. I plop down in the leather chair, my back ramrod straight, hands in my lap. I almost laugh at how I was just called cocky by Mia less than five minutes ago, and now, I’m shaking like a leaf in her father’s office.
I already have more respect for this man than any other I’ve ever met.
I never knew my father. In a way, I’m glad for that. I don’t think I would have liked him.
My coaches tended to be the kind of men who demanded my respect without doing anything to earn it, as if their title alone was all that was required. I hated that kind of attitude. It made me buck like a wild horse against their reins.
But Charlie Conaway had taken me into his home. He had help from the team, sure, but he went above and beyond that. He listened to me when I spoke. He watched me when I practiced. He offered help when I asked and stayed silent when I didn’t. He fed me, and clothed me, and showed me what it was to be a man just by living his day-to-day life.
I love how he cares for his business, for his wife, for his daughter, for this home. I love that he cares for me even though I’ve only been here a couple of months.
But as he steeples his fingers and sits back in his chair with his eyes assessing me, I realize the real measure of my respect for him doesn’t rest in love.
It exists in fear.
I am as scared of this man as I am inspired by him, and that is a true testament to his power.
“I want to tell you that I’m proud of you,” he starts.
I don’t know why, but those words make my nose sting, and I sniff against the sensation. I feel my chest tightening. I realize no one has said that to me other than my foster mom.
“You’ve really settled in,” he continues. “You’re taking your rink practice time seriously, you help out here around the house, you’ve been respectful of my family and of the staff at the rink. I know you’ve only met your coach a few times and that the team will take some getting used to, but the fact that you’ve acclimated so well in a new country… it’s truly remarkable. You are a good kid, Aleks. You will be a great man.”
I blink, unsure why my heart is racing even as he piles on the compliments. “Thank you, sir.”
He nods, leaning farther back in his chair with his eyes on me. “You and Mia seem to get along well.”
And suddenly, I know exactly why my heart is racing.
“Yes, sir,” I confirm, not sure what else to say. This feels like a trap.
“She’s a wonderful girl, my Mia,” he says, a distant smile on his lips. “Always has been. From the moment she was born, she’s brought light into our family, into any room she walks into. When she first started singing and asked for a guitar, her mother and I suffered through her living room talent shows with worried grimaces. She was terrible,” he says with a laugh. “But by God, she just got better and better. Her music instructors were blown away by her progress, and now… well, I think we all know she’s special.”
He grows quiet, so I clear my throat and say again, “Yes, sir.”
Mr. Conaway is quiet for a while, and then he leans forward, placing his elbows on his desk and staring intently at me. “Son, I’m glad you and Mia are friends. I think you’re good for her, and I think she’s good for you, too. But I need to make one thing very clear.”
I swallow what feels like a sandpaper-covered wine cork in my throat.
“That is my little girl, Aleks,” he says, his voice lower now. “She is my world. And I am only going to say this to you one time. Under absolutely no circumstances are you to do anything inappropriate with her. I want you two to be friends, but that’s where the line is drawn. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Suddenly, all my ‘yes sirs’ have dried up.
I just stare at him, silent.
I don’t want to understand what he’s saying, even though I do.
I don’t want to agree to what I know he’s going to ask me to.
“I remember what it was like to be your age. I know the things you’re feeling, the urges…”
I want to crawl inside myself and escape this conversation.
“I know Mia is a beautiful young lady, and there may be temptations. But… she has things she wants to accomplish, Aleks. Just like you do. I am trusting you to live under the same roof with her and that you will work just as hard as I do to keep her safe.”