Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“You know about that?” I ask, surprised she’s aware of my whole CV.
“I might have looked you up,” Ryker’s mom adds playfully. “When Chase called me about the photos you wanted.”
Right. Of course. How could I forget that?
“It’s good to see him on social. I can spy on him more now,” she says dryly, and I know where Ryker gets his sense of humor.
We chat some more, and no one lambastes me. No one gives me the third degree. No one asks when I’ll pop out babies either.
It’s a nice, normal conversation.
I might be foolish but maybe this thing could work. Perhaps their mothers being so cool is the sign I needed.
Maybe it doesn’t matter if my family doesn’t understand me. I’ve become used to that. But I’ve found my own family with Aubrey and Nacho and my book club, and maybe now with these two guys.
I try to let go of all the noise in my head. All of the questions chasing me. I relax into the moment as we talk about the city, and hockey, and books, and dogs, and weddings, and flowers, and how happy Chase’s cousin is with his teammate.
Every now and then someone else from Ryker’s team or Chase’s team stops by to say hi, and it’s so endearing to see all these players playing nicely with the parents. The women are warm and welcoming and treat them like family too.
With every minute that passes, I’m feeling like maybe the impossible is possible.
When the band begins to play, Chase swoops by and pulls me out to the dance floor. We slow dance, and he looks at me with soulful brown eyes that seem to understand me in a way my own family doesn’t. When he looks at me like that, my heart thumps.
But I’m careful to keep some distance between us.
I want to pull him close—too close. I definitely want to. But I don’t feel right doing that just with him. I don’t feel right doing that unless I can declare myself as theirs.
When Ivy and Ryker swing by, Ivy gives me a friendly nod. “Let’s switch. I need to dance with Chase.”
We trade off, and I’m in Ryker’s arms, and this feels right too. My heart beats hard all over again.
Somehow, a few weeks after my dog ate another woman’s underwear, I’ve fallen deeply for the two men who helped give me sweet revenge.
But with them, I’ve found so much more than sweet revenge. I’ve found a Golden Retriever and a grump who like me just the way I am.
Maybe, just maybe, I can put myself out there at the end of the night.
34
HOOK, LINE, AND SINKER
Ryker
As the wedding winds down, Ivy waves me aside. She tugs me along the corridor and into the alcove again, then stares at me, like she can see inside my soul.
“You’re in love with her,” she declares.
What the hell? She can see inside my soul.
“No,” I say, bristling.
Ivy rolls her eyes but says nothing.
“I’m not,” I add.
She scoffs.
“Seriously.”
She smirks. “You just denied it three times.”
“Because you said it,” I point out, annoyed, but not with her. Annoyed with myself for being so transparent even when I’ve tried to show nothing.
She pokes my chest. “You big lug.”
I narrow my eyes, hating that I’m cellophane with her. “Why are you talking to me about this here?”
“Because it’s so obvious.”
I blow out a harsh breath, then I defend myself. “I danced with her, and Chase danced with you. So how did you realize it?”
She flashes me an impish grin, like only a little sister can. “I figured it out the same way Grandma did.”
“And how’s that?”
“By knowing you. This is how you were when you met that—”
“Don’t say her name,” I hiss.
But Ivy goes quiet for a long beat. “Actually, no. You’re not like you were with Selena. This is different.”
I can’t leave that word hanging by itself. I have to know what she thinks is different.
“In what way?” I don’t bother to mask the desperation in my tone. I feel desperate for Trina.
“This is kind of hook, line, and sinker. And I’m pretty sure Chase is all in with her too.” There’s no judgment in her voice. No condemnation over the unusual nature of this arrangement. Just a simple question comes next. “So what are you going to do?”
That’s the rub.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. “There’s nothing to do.”
“Because of the three of you?”
“Well, yeah,” I say, with a life sucks shrug. Even if my sister’s cool with us, would others be? My teammates? The rest of my family? And really, most of all, would Chase and Trina want to be in a relationship? Maybe they like it for a week, but asking someone to be a throuple is more terrifying than facing down bloodthirsty teams on the ice.
“Please. You love who you love,” she says, emphatic.