Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
“I could’ve,” I admit. “The thought crossed my mind, but Nash had a better chance of scoring.”
Nash purses his lips, flashing Kiplin a look I can't decipher.
I'm hoping that after one season I'll be included in the silent conversations among the vets, but who knows, it could have taken him three years to develop that. Either way, it doesn't bother me. Not only have I busted my ass in practice, but I've just proven myself at our first preseason game.
It's not always about me, it's about winning. All I need to do is show them that and I’ll be well on my way to earning their full respect.
“Either way, it was a hell of a play,” Pax says, raising his glass.
All three of us clink ours against his and take sips, celebrating the much-needed start to the season. I set down my glass when my phone buzzes in my pocket, smiling at a text from my mother.
Mom: Congrats on your preseason win, honey. I'm so proud of you.
Me: Thanks mom. How did book club go?
Mom: It was so much fun. Barbara didn’t like this month’s read, so she made sure everyone knew about it.
Me: Did you like it?
Mom: Oh, I loved it. I made sure to tell Barbara why.
Me: Attagirl! Don’t let her push you around. She’s not the end all be all on literary gold.
I nod at my phone, proud of my mom for branching out recently. I’d invested every penny I’d gotten from college endorsement deals, however small they were, to help her get rid of her second job. After signing with the Badgers, I’d been able to retire her properly. Now she had all the free time she’d sacrificed when she was raising my sister and me, and I was proud of her for actually using it to do things she loves.
Mom: I know, just because she has a daughter-in-law who is a literary agent doesn’t mean she gets to tell me what makes a good mystery novel.
Me: Definitely. Did you do tacos or burgers after?
Mom: It was Tuesday this week, so naturally we did tacos.
Me: Sounds like fun.
Mom: It was. But enough about me, I know you must be celebrating. I’m just so proud of you. Go Badgers! Love you!
Me: Thanks mom. Love you.
Another wave of pride washes over me, and I internally congratulate myself on making my mom proud. I'm about to pocket my phone when it buzzes again, only this time showing Blakely’s name on the text screen.
Blakely: You remember when you joked about checking my apartment?
I furrow my brow, laughing softly to myself.
Me: Finally ready to take me up on my offer? My bedroom checking skills are unmatched.
Blakely: Ha ha. Yeah. Who knows, maybe I'm overreacting.
I sit up a little straighter, pushing away from the table and dialing her number immediately. I walk out of the bar, not even bothering to say goodbye to my teammates.
“Hey,” she says, a little hesitation in her voice when she answers the phone.
“What do you mean overreacting?”
“Well, I was just a little wiped out after the game and was going to come home and do a Bridgerton marathon, but...” She hesitates again, and I'm already reaching for my keys, climbing into my car.
“But what?”
“I don't know, maybe I'm being a coward,” she says. “But I'm sitting in my car. I can see my front door from here, and there's a note taped to it. Normally I’d think it was just the apartment manager but there are a dozen red roses sitting on the porch beneath it. And if this is the part where you want to tell me you sent me flowers, I will be more than eager to go pick them up and look at them.”
“If I sent you flowers, damsel, they wouldn't be roses. I know you don't like those as much as you like orchids. You told me that during one of our lessons when I called you a daisy after you laid my ass out on the ice.”
“How do you remember stuff like that?” she asks, following it up with a heavy sigh, likely realizing that the last hope the flowers weren't from her ex is dashed.
“I'll just go in,” she says. “I'm being ridiculous. I'm a grown woman for fuck’s sake—”
“You do whatever you're most comfortable with,” I say, wanting to support her even though every instinct is telling me to demand she stay in her car. “But I'm already on my way.”
“Seriously?” she asks. “I swore you’d wait at least until your celebration is over. Congratulations, by the way, you did fucking phenomenal tonight.”
“Well if that wasn't one of the sexiest things I've ever heard. I'm five minutes out, you want to wait for me?”
“Yes,” she says. “I'll wait for you.”
We hang up and I turn the five-minute drive into a two-minute one, pulling into the empty spot right next to Blakely’s car.