Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Dear God.
It’s going to be a long night.
It finally ends when the floor is too coated with beer to get a solid grip. I feel sorry for whoever is expected to clean up this mess tomorrow, and I’ll bet McIntyre’s will be happy to see these guys move on.
When Richie reappears, he’s slightly sweaty, definitely tipsy, and wearing a smile so big I can’t help but return it.
He presses a long kiss to my lips. “Still okay to stay for a bit longer?”
“Of course.” I’ve held off drinking too much so I can drive us back, but I’ve enjoyed myself anyway.
“Where’d Asher go?”
I pull a face. “I don’t think any of us want the answer to that.”
“Poor guy.”
“Yeah …”
Richie frowns. “I’m sort of worried about him.”
“Me too, actually. But I get the feeling Asher isn’t the type of guy who can be told what to do.”
“It does seem that way.”
I turn my full attention on Richie, not sure if I should bring this up. “And what about you? It’s officially over. Are you still disappointed about how the season ended?”
“Of course.”
My heart sinks, because I still feel guilty over playing a part in that game.
“If you’d asked me six months ago what my worst-case scenario would be, other than a complete shutout, that would have been it. Going out on the kind of shitty game where there were no positives to cling to.”
“I’m still so sor—”
He presses his thumb to my lips. “Stop. Let me finish. After we got our asses handed to us, Foster had the same thing happen to him. And it made me realize that, well, that’s hockey. If I love the game, I need to remember the highs and lows I had on the ice. I went through probably the most disappointing game I’ve ever had, but I did get through it. And the fact I was more worried about what you did that day than focusing on the game proved something else.”
“Do I want to know?”
He pulls me to him. “You were more important to me than any game. I said no to an opportunity I’d been searching for all year to stay with you. This year at training, I wasn’t thinking about the weekend game, I was too busy concentrating on when I’d get to see you next. And moving to Montreal, it’s not even the job I’m looking forward to. It’s getting to wake up next to you every day.”
My heart is melting.
“All year it’s been sneaking up on me without me realizing. And trust me this next part is going to sound ridiculous coming from me, but … hockey isn’t everything …”
I pretend to gasp. “Never!”
He smiles softly and rests his forehead against mine. “You are.”
Oh, that sweet motherfucker. Before my eyes can start leaking again, I launch myself at him. Our mouths smash together, and he smothers me in his arms, pulling me tight to his chest.
I’ll never have the words to tell him how much he means to me.
Richie laughs a little as he pulls back. “I’m not going to pretend I know what happens next. Maybe this job isn’t for me, maybe in a year we decide to move back here. Maybe you become some hotshot professor with a sexy tweed jacket and glasses and support me while I pick up some dumb hobby.”
“I do look good in tweed.”
“You look better in nothing.” He squeezes my ass. “But the point is, we’ll see. And we’ll face whatever happens together. If we fight, we already know how to get past it.”
“A shouting match and makeup sex?”
“Bingo.”
“I can live with that.”
Richie wraps one arm around my waist and grasps my other hand out to the side, then starts to rock me in a slow dance, ignoring the Birds of Tokyo song playing.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I laugh.
“This is what you have to get used to now. Me, being a giant affectionate idiot.”
“And public embarrassment, apparently.”
“Every chance I get.”
I press my grin into his shoulder. “Thank you.”
“For?”
“Needing me.”
“Always.” He kisses my ear. “Only you, Einstein.”
34
Cohen
“This long-ass drive is so much better in your car. I mean, power steering is amazing.” I swerve on the road, making the car wobble. I turn to my boyfriend with a smile, but then my face drops because Seth looks like he’s going to puke. “Sorry. No more swerving.”
Seth shakes his head. “It’s not that. It’s …” His warm brown eyes meet mine. “What if your parents don’t like me?”
I love that he’s nervous about meeting them, but he has nothing to worry about. The plan was to head out to Maine the day after graduation to see my parents because they can’t leave the shop unattended during summer, so they missed out on the ceremony. But I was way too hungover for that, so we’re doing it today and staying for two weeks before driving back to pack all our shit to make the move to Montreal.