Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95393 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95393 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Me: Hey, I know it’s last minute, but would you be free tomorrow?
She answers me right away.
Morgan: I am free. What time would you need me there?
Me: Five should be good.
Morgan: See you there.
Me: I’ll order pizza.
Morgan: Sounds good.
After I send her a text, I think for a couple of minutes before I pull up his name.
Me: Are you going to the bar after the game tomorrow?
I know he’s away in Buffalo for a game tonight for two reasons. One, the kids made me make a calendar of the games and put it on the fridge, and two, when he called me yesterday to talk, he was in the hotel room. I didn’t want to call him back, and I definitely wasn’t ready to see him shirtless, but I figured I would bite the bullet. It’s a good thing I did because I found out he didn’t think I was a hussy for what happened. In fact, he lost as much control as I did, and to know I made him do that makes me want to do it over and over again.
My phone beeps with a message.
Christopher: I said I would make an appearance. Why?
I smile when I read his answer.
Me: Brittany just invited me, and I said yes.
Christopher: Cool, I’ll drive you home.
I put my head back and laugh. I’m about to answer him when another one comes in.
Christopher: And if you pull the same stunt you did last week, I’m still showing up at your door.
Me: Message received.
Christopher: Glad we are in the same territory together. I don’t care if that makes no sense, you get it.
Me: I do. Talk later.
Christopher: You bet your ass.
Me: Stop thinking of my ass.
Christopher: I just put on my jock strap and now I’m at half-mast. Do you know how painful this is?
Me: Hahahaha. I’ll stop talking now.
Christopher: Good choice and also thinking of your ass and now other parts of you, which is not good for me.
Me: Then stop talking to me.
Christopher: Never.
I put the phone down, and for the rest of the day, a smile is on my face. I also feel lighter, which is strange but something I’m okay with. The girls and I gather around the television that night to watch the game. We’ve decided to do a picnic and have popcorn and snacks on the floor. The minute that Christopher’s face fills the screen, I smirk. By the end of the second period, both girls are fast asleep on the floor, and it takes everything out of me to get them to bed. I watch the rest of the game in bed, and they end up losing four to two. Turning off the television and lying down, I think about texting him, but I’m not sure if I should.
I mean, we have made it clear that we both want each other, at least naked. But I don’t know if I should text him and say good night or not. I literally spend over an hour thinking about it back and forth when my phone beeps from the bedside table. Reaching out, I grab it and see it’s from Christopher.
Christopher: Just got on the bus. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.
I smile, knowing he’s probably going to get back after three o’clock in the morning, and he’ll still wake up at six to come with the girls to hockey.
Me: I’ll make you coffee. See you tomorrow.
The following morning, I get dressed, and my whole body is a stack of nerves. I don’t know what is going to happen. Does the phone conversation change the way we are with each other? Are we going to be shy toward each other? When we walk out the front door, he’s outside waiting for us, a smile on his face when he sees us, and then he pulls two hats from behind his back and throws them in the air, and they land at Rain’s feet. “That’s for your hat trick,” he says while she bends to pick them up.
“I’m going to hang these in my room,” she informs me.
“Oh, here we go,” I mumble as he opens the back door to let the kids get in.
“Hey,” I say when I get close to him, handing him one of the two cups I’m holding in my hands.
“Hey,” he replies, coming close to me and kissing my cheek, something he’s never done before. “Thank you.” He takes a sip while the girls buckle themselves in.
When he closes the door, he looks at me. “I hope it was okay I kissed your cheek.” He takes another sip. “I figure before they see me stick my tongue down your throat, they should see me kiss your cheek.”
“Good call.” I can’t help but giggle as I get into the driver’s seat.
He doesn’t reach over to hold my hand, and even when we sit next to each other, he doesn’t drape an arm over me or kiss me. But he does look over at me a lot, leaning in, and talking to me about the kids, but then slyly kissing my cheek. He even reaches over a couple of times and squeezes my knee.