Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
I do him a solid and run the next two balls, winning the game just as Drake returns holding two bottles of beer in each hand.
“Damn,” he mutters, offering us our drinks. He then pulls out his wallet and hands Kiera a twenty.
“You thought I’d be a liability to my team, didn’t you?” she quips happily.
“I thought Hendrix and I would at least have a fighting chance with you as Stevie’s partner.”
“Want to go double or nothing?” Kiera asks.
“No fucking way,” Drake says, his gaze drifting over to Brienne. “Going to watch my girl play.”
Kiera turns to Bain and Camden sitting at the table beside Hendrix. “Come on… who wants to play?”
“I’m in,” Bain says, fishing change out of his pocket to release the balls for another game.
Drake gives him an icy glare. It’s a warning that his baby sister is off-limits.
Bain rolls his eyes. “Relax, dude. It’s a game of pool.”
“Don’t pay him any attention,” Kiera assures Bain. “He’s only mad he just lost twenty bucks.”
A hand wraps around my wrist, and Hendrix pulls me to him. I set my pool stick against the wall and lean into him as one arm wraps around my waist so we can watch Bain and Kiera play.
Hendrix leans to the side of his stool, pulling out his phone. I watch curiously as he opens the camera app and holds it out just far enough to take a selfie.
His entire face fills the screen in a big, cheesy grin.
“What’s your dad’s phone number?” he asks, and I look on as he prepares a text with the photo.
I give it to him, and then he types, Happy New Year. Wish you were here.
Laughing, I push in close as he hits Send, knowing my dad will reply. He might have chosen to stay at home tonight and binge-watch true crime documentaries, but he’s a night owl same as me and won’t be asleep.
It takes less than ten seconds for his reply.
A picture of my dad’s face, glaring into the camera. Glad you’re not here. Happy New Year.
Hendrix and I both burst out laughing. “You know… I think your dad likes me,” he says.
I don’t affirm this, but he’s not wrong. My dad likes him a lot.
“He’d be here if Aunt Rory were here,” I observe.
Hendrix grimaces. “Please don’t even go there.”
“You know it’s true,” I tease.
Suddenly, the music on the jukebox silences and someone yells, “It’s almost time.”
The bartender turns up the volume on the large-screen TVs around the bar, all tuned in to watch the ball drop in New York City.
Less than thirty seconds. Everyone scrambles to find their honeys. I’m with mine, so I watch as the pairs come together.
Drake and Brienne at the pool table next to us.
Gage and Jenna at the bar, sitting on stools next to Baden and Sophie.
Coach West is at a table, Ava on his lap, sharing beers with Coen and Tillie.
Around the dartboard, a handful of the single guys, including Camden, who moved off to join Kirill, Boone, and Foster.
And at our pool table, Kiera and Bain ignoring the TV and continuing on with their game.
Hendrix rises from the stool, turns me toward him, and wraps an arm around the back of my waist.
His hand comes under my chin to force my gaze on him. In the background, I hear the crowd counting down from ten as the New Year draws close. “Nine… eight… seven…”
“This is the beginning,” he says. “New year, the rest of our lives.”
“Six… five…”
“I’ve never looked forward to anything more,” I say, my hands on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart.
“Four… three… two…”
Hendrix dips his head, presses his mouth to mine.
“One. Happy New Year!”
Vaguely, I hear people cheering and party favors chirping as confetti flutters down around us. But I tune it all out as Hendrix deepens the kiss and we step into our future… together.