Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 93683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“But not something we can unsee,” Mom sassily shoots back, deep cognac shaded hands planting themselves on her black slacks bearing hips.
“You aren’t supposed to be back here when I’m with a patient-”
“You’re a patient?” Dad inquires without hesitation.
“No, I’m the patient,” Bronny unexpectedly chimes in from the space behind them, momentarily refocusing our attention on him. “And now…kinda like her side son.”
“What?!” squeaks the woman who gave birth to me as horror pierces my entire expression.
“No…” my head mindlessly shakes in continued disbelief. “Not…No.”
“No?” Sadness yet again shifts back into his stare. “You changed your mind already?”
“No.”
“No, you didn’t change your mind?!” anxiously investigates the teen.
“I…” the bobbing of my mouth can’t be stopped or helped or avoided.
This is a nightmare.
Like a serial killer plot twist on my favorite binge drama that no one asked for!
“Thayne,” he warmly announces at the same time he extends his open palm towards my dad. “Thayne Groff, Sir.”
“Malachi Blanc,” is spoken in a similar tone during the shaking. “And Groff…as in…Groffee?”
“Just Groff is fine, sir,” Jukes smoothly insists prior to offering my mom the same polite hand. “Ma’am.”
“Niya.” She repeats the action of my dad. “And Groffee-”
“Just Groff.”
“As in tendy?” Mom’s eyebrows shoot to the ceiling. “As in the first shift goal tender for The Dalvegan Dragons?”
“As in the best goal tender in the entire league,” Bronny enthusiastically boasts.
“Thanks, baby bro, but not helpin’,” Thayne less than quietly murmurs.
Definitely not.
But that was certainly first baby tooth cute.
For the amount of hell he puts up, there’s no denying the amount of love and admiration and approval Bronny seeks from his big brother.
And…me it seems.
Dad’s attention swiftly shifts to me. “Does your brother know?”
“What does he think about this whole situation?” Mom follows with the same quickness.
Because of course those are the most important questions right now.
How is this going to effect M?
His career?
His reputation?
His future?
Those have always been the most important questions to them.
To everyone.
“He…” the first hiccup of betrayal causes Dad’s nose to wrinkle, “will.” The next prompts matching headshakes from my parents. “Soon.” Another shakes my entire frame. “Ish?”
“We’ll tell Coach – uh – Blanc,” Thayne begins alongside the curling a protective arm around my frame, banishing the tell elsewhere, “whenever Gilly is ready to.”
Everyone except Thayne.
He puts me first.
Us first.
Right after Bronny.
Which I can honestly live with.
Kids should come first.
Like flossing before brushing.
“Ain’t that right, Gillybean?” His eyes fall to find mine, to wordlessly offer the support it’s evident I’m currently not receiving elsewhere. “We’ll tell him when you’re ready, aye?”
I sheepishly nod.
Struggle to flash him with a smile of gratitude.
Keeping him a secret forever definitely isn’t the gameplan; however, keeping him to myself, keeping something for just me feels incredible.
And yeah, it’s a little selfish.
But maybe it’s okay to be a little selfish every now and again.
“What,” hiccupping rudely intervenes again upon returning my focus to the unexpected intruders, “are you guys,” my figure bounces again, “doing,” the next tightens Thayne’s hold, “here?”
“You need a cold one?” Bronny concerningly inquires. “I can go grab it from your office.”
There’s barely time for me to politely decline with a headshake before Dad announces, “We texted earlier because we were shopping in the district-”
“Your dad needs a new suit for Duppy’s retirement ball-”
“Y’all are throwin’ a retirement party for a pup?!” the teen energetically interrupts. “That’s wild!”
“Dup-py,” Dad casually corrects, “is short for Duphrene. He’s the current – although retiring – fire chief for Dalvegan.”
Thayne’s head tilts slightly to the side. “You a firefighter, sir?”
“No, I own a fire sprinkler company which installs fire sprinklers for many, many businesses throughout the country, so we work quite closely with the heads of fire departments.”
“That’s fascinatin’, sir,” my boyfriend comments prompting another realization to hit me.
Guess he doesn’t really know much about my family besides M.
Just like they know nothing about him besides that he plays for M.
I guess…the idea of talking about them can’t be done without bringing up my big brother and if I bring him up then I have to bring up still not telling him and that just hasn’t been something I wanted to do.
“Why don’t we talk more about it over dinner?” Dad cordially suggests. “That’s actually why we stopped by.” The answer to my question has him sending his stare back to mine. “We texted because we were in the area, and when we didn’t hear back, we figured we’d just pop on by to see if you were busy. When Rhonnie sent us on back, we assumed that meant you were done for the day.”
Of course, she sent them back.
I’d bet a bottle of Jukes favorite cologne that she’s standing somewhere in the hallway just listening to this made for streaming drama.
“I was almost done for the day,” escapes in a coyish nature.
“We would love to take you all out for a bite,” Dad insists in the same cheery manner as before. “Get to know Groff better.”