Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“We are coming with you,” she says and then grabs my hand. “Do you want to sit with me?”
I look up, seeing Tristan’s blue eyes watching us. “Of course,” I agree, faking it. I mean, not faking that I want to sit with her but faking that I’m happy about it. There is absolutely nothing I wouldn’t do for her. She owns half my heart, and sadly her father owns the other side, and the best thing is, he has no clue either. No one does. I’ve been perfecting masking my feelings for the past six years. To be honest, the only one who has homed in on it has been Gabriella, who has been sworn to twin secrecy.
I walk down the aisle smiling and stopping to kiss my grandparents before walking two rows farther toward Tristan, who is now standing in the aisle. “Hi,” he greets me, smiling, and I don’t know why I expect him to lean in and kiss my cheek. But he doesn’t, which then makes me wish he had.
“Hi,” I say to him, putting on a smile. “This is a nice surprise.” I try not to stutter as my mouth goes dry.
“Yeah, we decided at the last minute,” he shares as I look at him. A little warning would be nice, my head says to itself.
“Can I sit at the window?” Penelope asks, walking into the row, sitting down, and looking out the window. “Abigail, sit next to me.”
I smile at her. “There isn’t anywhere else I wanted to sit anyway.” I look over at Tristan, who just looks at me. I tuck the hair behind my ear, putting my bag in the overhead bin.
I step into the aisle and sit in the middle seat, telling myself the minute I can escape, I’m going to. I sit in the middle seat and grab the seat belt when I feel him sit next to me. The smell of his aftershave makes my stomach flutter. I can feel him looking at me, but I tell myself he’s looking at Penelope, and I’m just in the way.
I buckle my seat belt, ignoring the pull to look back at him and instead look at Penelope. “This is going to be a great week,” I say, feeling that I’m two seconds away from throwing up.
CHAPTER SIX
TRISTAN
I sit next to Abigail and buckle my seat belt, ignoring how my heart is pounding. Ignoring the way my eyes fly to her legs. Ignoring my head yelling at me not to look at her. But I fail at it all, and I turn to watch her. She looks at Penelope. “This is going to be a great week,” she says, and I have to slow down the nerves that have now worked their way from my stomach to my throat.
I’ve been on the ice with the biggest and baddest there are. I’ve even been in some fights in the middle of the ice, but it’s nothing compared to how nervous I am as soon as I see Abigail.
The whole night I tried to tell myself that going on this trip was a bad idea, but then the other side of my brain would tell me what a great fucking idea it was. It was a fucking nightmare, I barely slept.
Did I walk on the plane and immediately look for her? Yes. Did I immediately get disappointed she wasn’t here? Yes. Did I ask if she was coming? No. Did I sit down and watch the door like a hawk? Yes. Did I see her walking toward the plane with Maddox as they smiled at each other and think she’s gotten even more beautiful in the past two days? Yes. Did I wish I could tell her? So much yes.
“Anyone need a tissue?” Christopher asks from five rows over, laughing. He looks around the plane, and I see a couple of people snickering when he spots me. “Tristan, you good?” he asks, and my heart sinks, thinking he knows how I feel for his sister.
I lean over. “What’s happening?” I ask under my breath.
“Every time someone new joins the family, they cry when they meet my grandfather,” she fills me in. “Started with Wilson and then Xavier.”
“So as soon as you marry into the family, you start crying?” I ask her, joking, and she can’t help but throw her head back and laugh. I picture leaning in and kissing her lips, but the image quickly evaporates from my head when I hear Dylan.
“Regret coming yet?” he asks, and I just shake my head. I might regret it at the end of the week, I think to myself, but not yet. He slaps my shoulder before walking two rows back and then sitting down in the seat, waiting for Alex to join him. She stops to kiss her grandfather and grandmother before making her way to Dylan.