Coen (Pittsburgh Titans #4) Read Online Sawyer Bennett

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Pittsburgh Titans Series by Sawyer Bennett
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Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
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The honesty comes into play because I have to admit that I’m actually looking forward to the visit.

It’s not that I’m lonely, and I’m sure as hell not second-guessing my decision to come here. But I’ve let go of something that was keeping walls in place. Maybe it’s the introspection of not having much to do around here but think. Maybe it’s the distance away from Pittsburgh and the pressures of performance.

Maybe it’s just time, because don’t they say it heals all wounds?

Not that mine are healed. I still think about my friends who died on that plane and how close I came to death myself. I still think of Kyle and my lost ability to make things right with him. It’s a mistake I can’t correct, and there’s no stopping the self-loathing when I think about him. And mostly, I feel guilty about not being on that plane and going down with my team.

The crunch of tires on gravel draws my gaze from the trees to my driveway as Gage pulls in. He grins as he steps out of the car, and I’m off the porch and there to greet him.

We shake hands. “Looking good, man,” he says, clapping me on the shoulder.

I can’t say I’m feeling good, because that’s not attainable on a consistent basis. But I’ve had my moments.

Tilden Marshall.

She’s been a good moment, despite our tree dispute.

“Loving it out here,” I reply.

Gage pulls a duffel from the trunk, along with two bottles—one bourbon, one wine. “Housewarming gifts. The wine is from Jenna, and the bourbon from me.”

“Not sure the wine will get used unless I have company.” I take both bottles, knowing it’s unlikely I’ll have company outside of this visit with Gage. “But these are nice. Thank you, and thank Jenna for me.”

Gage laughs as he closes the car door.

“What’s so funny?” I turn and we walk toward the cabin.

He shakes his head, a knowing smirk on his face. “It’s just this is the first time I’ve actually seen you be polite. Country life agrees with you.”

I snort but don’t reply. He’s definitely seeing the changes I’ve been feeling.

Once inside, I give him the grand tour, and he drops his duffel in the guest room. We put the wine in the fridge alongside the beer I bought and the steaks marinating for dinner in a few hours.

“Feel like a trail run?” I ask him.

“Dude… this is my summer vacation.”

“Don’t act as if you don’t work out all summer. You know as well as I do the next season is right around the corner.”

Gage stares at me thoughtfully. “Is that why you’re staying in shape? For the upcoming season?”

Something twists inside me. A mixture of abhorrence and longing, and it’s a fucked-up feeling. I don’t let him see how much it affects me, though. “Not at all. I’ve just found I really like running the trails. It’s a challenge, but if you’re not up for it, old man…”

“Oh, I’m up for it,” he growls, the gauntlet of competition smacking him in the face. “Let’s do it.”



After our run—during which Gage stayed on my heels the entire time—and showers, we crack beers and pull out the steaks to come to room temperature. I’ll start up the grill in a bit.

We move to the back deck and settle into the Adirondack-style chairs delivered just yesterday. I had to put them together, but it was an easy project.

They’re facing the back of the property, and my eyes settle on the tree line that separates my lot from Tilden’s.

“Tell me really how you’re doing out here,” Gage says. I’m not surprised by the request because I know he came here to check on me.

I consider my answer a moment while scanning my yard. How many times have I wondered if I’ll catch a glimpse of Tilden walking out of the trees?

Too many to count, and it never happens. She has no reason to walk through there since I’ve effectively put a stop to her plans for now.

“I love it,” I tell him honestly. “I felt a lot of weight lift off the minute I drove out of Pittsburgh.”

“I’m glad,” he says, hoisting his bottle toward me. “You needed something that no one else on that team could give you, so while I hate we lost you the last part of the season, I’m beyond happy you found something good.”

I tap my bottle against his. “Thanks, man.”

“What’s the social scene around here? Coudersport is a small town.”

“I pretty much stay home. I’ve been working to clear some of the property, and I do a lot of hiking, some fishing. I’ll head into town for groceries or sometimes I’ll have a beer at this bar called Masha’s. It’s more of a local hangout than touristy. Low-key.”

“Been recognized?”

“Oh yeah.” I chuckle at my attempts to stay in disguise when I go out. It’s not working anymore. “Had a few requests for autographs or pictures. Most people give me space, though. It’s not bad. How’s everyone else been?”


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