Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 113072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
So I ruin it by crying.
“Oh no. Oh, honey,” he whispers frantically. “Hey now.” He sweeps a tear off my face with his thumb. Then strong arms scoop me into a hug. A fantastic hug. The kind I’ve been needing for a decade.
I rest my cheek against his chest and feel eighteen again. “I want…” I take a gasping breath. “I want a do-over. B-but…”
He goes absolutely still. “But?”
“But it aches to want something so much.”
His arms close more tightly around me. “I want that, too. Just breathe, Zoe. We’ll be okay. And today was a lot. Do you need anything?”
“Just… hug me awhile?”
“That’s easy,” he says, nudging me over so he can get into bed. “Come here.”
I lay my head down on his chest while he strokes my hair, and I fall asleep.
Some hours later, I wake up to blinding sunshine streaming through the window, and Chase snugged up against my back. His hand rests firmly on my hip, and I like it so much that I don’t move for a minute, even though the sun is roasting me.
“Mmrrph,” he says a moment later. “Too sunny.”
I roll onto my back. “That’s what you get for living in an aquarium, Hotshot.”
Eyes closed, he fumbles for a small remote on the bedside table. He pushes a button, and the window blinds slightly adjust their angle, blocking the worst of it but leaving the room pleasantly bright. “There.”
“You pampered thing,” I say. “It’s a marvel you haven’t lost your edge.”
He reaches over and squeezes my hip again, extending his fingers just slightly onto my tummy. Where I’m horribly ticklish.
I shriek.
He laughs. “Watch the commentary, lady. I can still push your buttons.” He sits up. “Coffee?”
“Am I breathing?”
He gives me a catty smile. “Splash of milk, right? Just like mine?”
The memory of all our synchronicities socks me in the chest. “Yes, please.”
“Help yourself to anything in my bathroom. And I think I know where I can score you a pair of sweatpants that might fit. Hang on.”
He leaves the room, and I investigate his luxury bathroom, done up in light wood and sage-colored glass tiles. I treat myself to a quick shower under an outrageously overdesigned showerhead and then snag a fluffy white towel off a stack of them.
I’d bet a hundred bucks, which is all the money I have, that someone else cleans this bathroom.
In Chase’s medicine cabinet I find an unopened toothbrush from United Airlines and help myself to the toothpaste. When I’m feeling refreshed, I venture out into his bedroom in my fluffy towel just as Chase is entering the room with a tray containing two glasses of orange juice and two mugs of coffee.
The tray wobbles suddenly, and I extend a hand to steady it. “Oh heck! Problem?”
“Hmm?” Chase asks distractedly. Then he peels his eyes off my cleavage and meets my gaze. “Um, coffee’s ready.”
“That’s so nice,” I say, taking the tray from his strangely incompetent grasp. “Is it getting late? You probably have morning skate.”
“It’s optional today, and I’m blowing it off. This is for you,” he says, pointing at the bed, where there’s a pair of sweatpants with the Brooklyn Bruisers logo running down the leg.
“Enemy sweatpants?” I yelp.
He grins. “Tremaine’s hookup left them in his apartment to be obnoxious. They’re clean, and they’re probably your size. I found you a Legends sweatshirt to counterbalance it, though.”
“Good thinking. Right back!” I grab the clothes and dash into his bathroom again to get dressed.
When I emerge, Chase is seated on the freshly made bed, still shirtless, which I appreciate. He smiles over the rim of his coffee cup when I appear. “Get it while it’s hot.”
Oh, I wish. I join him on the bed, and he hands me a mug. The coffee is the exact shade that I would have made it for myself. I take a sip. “It’s perfect. Thanks. But you don’t have to blow off morning skate for me. Nolan Sharp is still not your biggest fan.”
“Yeah.” He chuckles. “I know, and it’s a problem. But I was planning to skip anyway. I have a meeting later, but it’s a secret.”
“A secret meeting? With who?”
“Hold on.” He trades my coffee for the OJ. “Try this. Fresh squeezed by Marnie.”
“Wow” is all I can say after my first sip. “Maybe I’ll marry her. Now what’s this meeting?”
He takes a sip of his juice, too. “It’s a lunch with an old friend who plays for Montreal. I’m pretty sure he invited me out because they’re thinking about making an offer.”
It takes me a second to understand. “Oh. Do you want a contract with them? You’d have to move to Montreal?”
He takes a thoughtful sip. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I have a nice setup here. I think you called it my Mojo Dojo Hockey House?”
I cringe.
He grins. “The thing is? I love New York, and I love living next door to my two best friends. But I’m twenty-nine years old. This contract will be my last one. I want to go somewhere they appreciate me, Zoe. I don’t want to end my career as Nolan Sharp’s whipping boy. Montreal is a good option. And if a little competition makes Sharp appreciate me more, that’s not the worst outcome, either.”