Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
“Maybe you and I can go out for a drink sometime,” she suggests, her tone silky and suggestive. “We had good times together, right?”
“My schedule is crazy right now,” I say to let her down easy. I have no interest in rekindling anything with her because there’s no spark to even catch.
“After the playoffs then,” she says breezily. “I’ll give you a call, although hopefully Jenna will green-light this story and we’ll have time together sooner rather than later.”
Not if I can help it.
“Listen,” I say, hand on Bailey’s shoulder where I lean in to kiss her cheek in farewell. “It was great catching up, but I’ve got to get inside to my buddies. We’re only doing a beer and calling it an early night.”
“Sure thing,” she replies, and I hold the door for her to enter Mario’s. She cuts left and I head straight back to the private section, grateful she can’t follow me in. Not in the mood for her not-so-subtle flirting that will lead to nothing.
Particularly when Lilly is occupying my thoughts more and more.
CHAPTER 11
Lilly
Lifting my gaze over the top of my laptop propped on my thighs, I note that Aiden is engrossed in the comic books I brought. He looks so good today—eyes bright, fuzz on his head starting to thicken a little, and he wanted to wear regular clothes today rather than pajamas. I got here at seven this morning—admittedly still a little worried the deli would implode without me but also thrilled that Georgie and Charles have stepped up to the plate.
Aiden and I walked down to the cafeteria and ate breakfast together. It was the most normal thing we’ve done in months—sitting at a table, plates of food before us, talking about all the things not related to cancer. Top of the list was the Titans’ win over Buffalo last night, which I watched from the apartment as Aiden kicked me out of his room right after we had dinner so I could get a decent sleep in my own bed.
God, I love how that kid is now being protective of me. It’s a sure sign he’s feeling better.
My attention goes back to my laptop. Granted, it’s slightly uncomfortable working in the room. Today I’m in one of the straight-back chairs with my feet propped on the end of Aiden’s bed, laptop on my legs as I work on next month’s employee schedule. I’m putting myself back on some days at the end of the month, assuming that Aiden might actually be home—and maybe my dad will be too.
A knock on the door has me kicking my feet off the bed, assuming it’s a doctor or nurse coming in. I’m surprised to see Boone there with a pizza box in hand.
“Well, hey,” I say, and Aiden’s head swings his way, a big grin on his face.
Thumbing at the door now devoid of the frame that held all the gowns, masks and gloves, Boone asks, “We don’t have to suit up anymore?”
I shake my head, closing the laptop. “His marrow is looking better so they relaxed that requirement for visitors in the room, as long as we keep it to trusted folks and not a herd of people coming through.”
“I’m still on a shit ton of medicine though to prevent infection,” Aiden says.
“Hey!” I snap.
“Language,” Boone says sternly.
Aiden smirks and ducks his head. “Sorry.”
I glare at my brother and try not to laugh before looking at Boone. “What are you doing here?”
“That’s kind of a dumb question,” he chides, entering the room. “I came to hang out with my two favorite people in the world.”
Boone says this while looking at Aiden but then his gaze cuts to me, lingers just long enough to make me flush, and then he sets the pizza down on the rolling bed tray. “Brought lunch. Pepperoni and sausage.”
Aiden’s favorite. He is so thoughtful.
Boone grabs the other straight-back chair and drags it around to the opposite side of the bed from me. He positions the tray over Aiden’s lap, taking his comic book from him and putting it on the bookshelf. Turning to the paper towel holder at the sink, he pulls out several pieces, passes them out and then opens the box.
“Dig in.” Boone takes his seat and Aiden reaches for the first slice.
When we all have pizza, we talk about the game. Aiden has a million questions about some of the plays, all things that went over my head. He spends a lot of time lamenting that Coen missed an easy goal and Boone gives him hell for not spending equal time praising him for the one he made. It’s been such a running joke because Coen is actually Aiden’s favorite Titans player and had been long before Boone came along. But there’s no doubt that Boone is one of Aiden’s favorite people, and that’s more important to both of them.