Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 107667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“You have a game out here for preseason?”
I nod. “I do, and if I don’t see you before that, I’ll definitely see you then.”
She smiles widely at me, her eyes the color of the sky. Since the moment she was born, I’ve called her sunshine because of her eyes. They’re so blue, so bright, and remind me of a perfect day. She favors my mom, which means we look a lot alike. And even though there are sixteen years between us, I love her more than I can ever put into words.
“Awesome. I miss you.”
My heart snags in my chest as I gaze into her eyes. I have just flown in from Arizona to Nashville for the wedding, but I understand her missing me. I miss her the same. “I know, Sabine. I know. I miss you too, but it won’t be long.”
She makes a face of distress, and it guts me. I know I should head to where my car is waiting to take me to the wedding, but instead, I go to the bar. “Can’t I live with you?”
This isn’t the first time she has asked. The only reason she has a babysitter is because I pay the girl. My mom is busy, all the time, and can find no real reason to be a mom anymore. To her, Sabine isn’t a reason.
It’s frustrating as fuck. “I wish, sunshine. I do. But I’m never home during the season.”
“Yeah, but at least you’d want to see me.”
It’s hard not to hate my mom; it really is. I head for the bar and lay my suit over the back of a chair. The bartender looks at me as I lean on the bar. I hold up a finger for a moment as I look down at my sister’s face on the phone. “I love you, Sabine. I do. You know I do.”
“I know. I love you too.”
“Good. Listen, I gotta get to Owen and Angie’s wedding, but I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay. Bye, Dart.”
“Love you, Sab.”
“Love you.”
I hang up, my shoulders falling, and I try not to allow my worry for my sister to ruin my day. She’s just a kid—a baby, even. Fuck. I wish I could take her and have her live here, but it wouldn’t be fair. I’m gone all the time, and I couldn’t be a good parental figure. Hell, I’m not even really an adult. I’m still a horny teenager in a man’s body.
“Can I get you something?”
I nod to the bartender. “Two shots of tequila.”
“Lordy, is it even ten?”
I hadn’t even noticed the girl beside me until she spoke, which is unlike me. Our gazes meet, and the grin I start to give her doesn’t materialize. I’m stunned by her breathtaking eyes. One is the lightest of blues, almost crystal-like, while the other is a stunning mossy green color. I barely stop myself from muttering a curse at how breathless they leave me. But that isn’t the only breath-stealing thing about her. Full lips, glossed to perfection, and the cutest little button nose. Her face is round, her cheeks pink, while her blond hair is in a heap of a topknot on her head. She’s wearing a bright-orange Tennessee Volunteers shirt and the shortest shorts, showing off thick thighs that I can tell are sticking to the barstool she’s sitting on.
Now, the grin comes.
“One is for you, of course,” I say, sliding it to her.
Her brow perks above her blue eye. “Smooth.”
I wink at her as I hold up my glass to her, and she takes it, tapping hers to mine before we both down the drink. She takes a pull of the orange juice she has in front of her, while I suffer the burn. The burn being the reason for the shot before ten a.m.
“What are we drinking to?”
“Survival, at this point,” I joke as I ask for another round. “Am I drinking this round alone?”
“Of course not,” she says, her lips curving, and once more, we tap our glasses before downing the liquor. “Survival, you say? I can feel that.”
I nod, wiping my mouth, my beard rough against my fingertips. I hope Angie doesn’t bitch at me for not shaving. “Yeah. I have a wedding to be in. I’m the dude of the bride.”
She grins. “That’s really cool,” she says, her twang sending chills down my spine.
“It is. So let’s drink to their happiness, eh?” I ask, and she nods as I order another round. I’m going to regret this choice, but then again, I’m not. She takes hers and I take mine before we tap our glasses and down the shots once more. I move the glass up before digging into my pocket for my wallet. I lay my keycard on the bar and then my wallet before getting my card out to pay. “What are you drinking to?”