Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“Babe,” Miller says. “He used Jaxon’s kid as a human football a few weeks ago. Cassie nearly died.”
Dani’s eyes widen in alarm, and I see her look back at the baby monitor with concern, wondering if she really should be leaving her precious daughter with two inexperienced idiots like us. Her eyes flick back to me and narrow into tight, venomous slits. “Use my baby as a football, and I’ll use your throat for chopping practice,” she warns me.
“Yes, ma’am,” I say, unable to help the wide grin stretching across my face. “No human footballs.”
Dani lets out a huff and gives Miller another kiss, which turns into a spontaneous make-out session, reminding me that not a damn thing has changed since college. I turn to Soph and let out a heavy breath, a smirk across my lips, knowing we’re usually just as bad. “You better go before he convinces her to stay.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Sophie murmurs as she stretches up on her tippy-toes and kisses me goodbye, my hands automatically falling to her small bump. After stepping away, Sophie reaches out and grips Dani’s hand, pulling her away from her husband before hauling her ass out the door.
The second the door closes behind them, Miller and I glance at each other blankly, the silence louder than a hurricane tearing through a city. What the fuck possessed us to agree to this? When I first walked in, I felt pretty good about this, but now . . . I don’t know what’s going on, but I swear, Miller’s anxiety is starting to leach into me.
“So, uhh . . . what the fuck are we supposed to do?”
He just gives me a blank stare, way out of his comfort zone. It takes him a second to snap out of it before taking a breath and deciding he’s got this covered. “Umm, I guess since Mia’s asleep, we don’t really need to do anything right now. Though, I should probably clean this shit up. I don't want Dani having to do it when she gets home.”
Miller gets started on tidying up the living room while I head into the kitchen and wash up Mia’s bottles. I notice the schedule Dani stuck to the fridge and I double-check the time. I see that Mia’s due for her milk in an hour and a half, so commit that to memory.
I come out of the kitchen twenty minutes later with a couple of beers to find Miller sorting through the clean laundry on the couch. When I drop down across from him, I notice he’s watching a rerun of last season’s championship hockey game. Even though neither of us knows any of the kids playing for the Denver Dragons anymore, we still feel a sense of pride watching them defend their title.
It’s been five years since we skated for the Dragons, and I have to say, I’m damn proud of every single player that has played for them since. Five years in a row, the Denver Dragons have remained undefeated and won every damn championship.
Like I said, I’m fucking proud of those boys.
We’re halfway through the game when the cameraman zooms in on the coaches and we see Coach Harris, still red in the face just like he used to be during all of our games. “Fuck, yeah,” Miller chuckles, holding his beer up to the screen as if in cheers, but that’s not what’s caught my attention.
“Rewind that,” I say, leaning forward on the couch, as if being just that little bit closer to the screen is going to help me confirm what I thought I saw.
Miller does as asked and I watch intently, telling him when to stop. As I do, he sees exactly what I was looking at. “Is that Shorty next to Coach Harris?” I ask.
“Sure fucking looks like him,” Miller grunts. “I only saw him a few weeks ago. I wonder why he didn’t say anything.”
“Who knows? Maybe he’s just filling in or something,” I shrug as we hear Mia start to stir.
Miller goes to get up, but I put a hand up, wanting to get her myself. I sneak down the hallway and into her room before making my way over to her bassinet and peering in. She’s so fucking tiny, I can hardly wrap my head around it. I go to reach for her when I pause, noticing the way she yawns and drops her face to the side, her eyes still so heavy from sleep.
Dropping my hand to the side of her bassinet, I cautiously give it a little rock and watch in amazement as she settles back into a peaceful sleep. My brows shoot up, my ego practically doubling in size.
I’ve fucking got this. I can do this baby shit. It’s easy.
Heading back out to the living room with my chest puffed out, feeling like the fucking man, I find Miller gaping at me as though he’s seeing a whole new person. “How the fuck did you do that?” he asks in awe. “Every time I try, she wakes up screaming.”