Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
I was tempted to say no. I looked different with the longer hair and beard, and I’m still wearing my glasses because I don’t bother with my contacts most of the time.
But I didn’t lie, because lies are what have poisoned my entire world, and I can’t be that type of person anymore. I smiled, posed for a selfie, and signed a grocery receipt.
It wasn’t so bad in the end.
Maybe one day, I’ll work up the energy to have a beer at one of the town’s bars. It’s not that I plan on hiding forever. It’s just that right now, I like not being around people. Privacy is my best friend.
I grab my phone to check the time and see that it’s time to hit the road. Keys in hand, I flip through my messages as I walk out the front door.
Grimacing, I see my dad left me a voicemail. I’m a glutton for punishment, so I listen to it.
“Coen… this is the third message I’ve left. I demand you call me back and give me an update. As you well know, the charges against you in New York and the suspension are a complete embarrassment, and I need to know that you’re fixing these things. Your mother and I are humiliated and—”
Delete.
Same old shit. Two parents who care more about their society standing because their professional athlete son is a disgrace.
If Dad only knew that he hadn’t seen the worst of what I’ve done.
♦
I haven’t been back to Pittsburgh since that playoff game, but I don’t mind today’s trip.
That text I’d sent to Stone asking to buy his cabin set into motion a series of events that led me to the law office of his girlfriend, Harlow Alston. After Stone and I negotiated and agreed upon a price, she handled all the legalities, and today we’re closing the deal.
I’ll walk out of here the owner of that cabin and the surrounding land, and I’ll be ready to settle into my new life.
Stone and I sit in the small conference room waiting for Harlow to finish up a phone call on another case. She worked me into her schedule today as she and Stone are leaving on a vacation tomorrow and I wanted to get this done.
Flipping his phone toward me, he asks, “Are you on this Facebook page?”
I lean forward and peer at the screen: Titan Family Page.
I shake my head, and he turns the phone away, scrolling through pictures.
“You should join,” he says, a smile on his face. “Everyone’s posting all their summer escapades. Fucking Boone and Kirill are pretty much sleeping on a beach in Costa Rica trying to learn how to surf.”
A small pang of longing hits.
Not for the beach or surfing, but for caring about what my teammates are doing this summer.
“I’m not on Facebook,” I mutter.
“You should be. It’s a great way to stay in contact.”
“Why would I want to do that?”
Stone looks from his phone to me.
“This isn’t my team anymore,” I say.
“Have you officially announced your retirement?” he throws back, not batting an eye.
My jaw locks tight. “I promised Brienne I wouldn’t make such a proclamation until training camp started.”
“Then you’re still a fucking Titan,” he replies with a wink, putting his phone on the table. “But seriously, man… how’s it going in Coudersport? There’s not much to do there.”
His question relaxes me, since we’re not talking hockey, and weirdly, a fond smile comes to my face. “I’m digging in, to be honest. I love the quiet. I’ve been running the trails, and I’m in the best cardio shape of my life.”
“Yeah, Harlow went to the cabin a few times with Brooks. He loved walking that property.”
Stone mentioning his brother, Brooks, is a stark reminder that I’m not the only one who suffered after that plane crash. His brother was a Titan—my friend—and went down with the others. Stone took his place on the team, and I’m sure he’s had a lot of heavy shit to overcome. I guess that makes us a lot alike.
“I’ve taken up fly-fishing,” I say, wanting to move away from talking about his brother, as that might inspire him to get me to talk about the crash, and fuck if I’m doing that.
“No shit?” Stone leans back in his chair, drumming his fingers on the armrest.
“Yeah… actually hired a guide who took me out and taught me the basics. There’s a stream on the very back of the property. I’m not very good, but I guess it doesn’t matter. I like spending the time out there trying.”
“Very Zen, dude.”
I snort because I haven’t felt Zen or even close to it in months.
The conference room door opens and Harlow walks in. Stone sure hooked up with a stunner with her red hair and bright green eyes. I’ve met her once or twice in passing, and we’ve talked on the phone a few times because not only is she handling the house closing, but she’s helping me with my criminal charges in New York.