Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 86199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
But the only way for me to move on is to finally air it out.
I need to do something with my twin that I never expected.
Set boundaries.
The thought saddens me. In a way, it’s like hacking off a limb. But I need to be my own person. I can’t continue living in the shadows and allowing the people around me to hold me back.
As much as they love me, they’re smothering me.
Hampering me.
They’re not allowing me to spread my wings and fly.
That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.
As much as I know this will hurt him, he needs to understand my feelings on the matter.
Not only that, he needs to accept them.
“Mom, Dad, and you are the ones who make me feel sick. There are times when I actually forget that I had cancer, and you know what? Those are amazing days. But then Mom calls or you out me to someone I just met, and it’s like the candle has been snuffed out and I’m dragged back into the darkness. Alone. It’s isolating, and I hate it. I really fucking hate it.” I let that sink in before adding, “It makes me not want to be around any of you. And that just breaks my heart because I love you all so much.”
His face turns ashen as anguish floods his eyes. “God… I’m sorry, Willow.” He opens his mouth as if to say something more before slamming it shut with the next breath.
His pain has always been my own.
When I hurt him, I cause the same damage to myself.
We’re so tightly connected and intertwined.
As much as I’ve always loved that feeling of never truly being alone in this world, especially during my darkest hours, I need the separation.
I need boundaries.
“I’ve never wanted to see you hurt,” he mutters, thick emotion invading his voice.
It’s so tempting to crumble and offer forgiveness the way I have in the past. Instead, I force myself to hold strong. Nothing will change between us if I don’t.
“Right now, you’re the one who’s causing me pain.”
Those charged words hang heavy in the air.
The remainder of the drive is silent.
Bursting with unease.
The one thing it never is between us.
34
Maverick
I slam into the locker room and throw my stick into the holder before stalking to the bench and chucking my gloves. Only then am I able to unsnap the chin strap and rip the helmet off my head.
Sweat drips from my hair as I draw a lungful of fresh air into my body and bury my head in my hands.
It was a shitty practice.
The worst I’ve had since starting at Western.
I was off the entire time, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t get back into the flow. I wasn’t focused on the scrimmage. When I should have capitalized on scoring opportunities, I missed a handful of easy shots. Then there were the defensive lapses and turnovers. Instead of battling Hayes against the boards when he was driving the puck toward the net, I hesitated and backed off.
Thoughts of Willow have been fucking with my head ever since Saturday night at Slap Shotz.
Before I can calm the chaotic whirl of my thoughts, Coach bellows, “McKinnon, in my office after your shower!”
“Looks like you screwed the pooch this time,” Colby says after the frosted glass door stops vibrating on its hinges.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I mutter as other players stop and stare at the now closed office door and then at me.
Looks of pity fill their expressions as they return to their convos.
I’m sure they’re just glad it isn’t their asses he’ll be crawling up.
Ryder strips off his pads.
A couple months ago, he would have given me shit like Colby and rubbed the predicament in my face. Instead, he remains quiet, his thoughts hidden behind a mask. There’s an unease between us that wasn’t there before.
Not only do I fucking hate it, I have no idea how to move past it.
Especially when the silence that stretches between us turns unbearable.
For a few seconds, I consider heading to Coach’s office now and getting this convo—or, more than likely, ass chewing—over with. It’s better than sitting here and drowning in this awkwardness.
“I didn’t even know you were seeing that chick,” he mutters, staring straight ahead at his locker.
“Willow,” I grumble, irritated that he’d refer to her as “just some chick.”
No matter what happened the other night, that’s the last thing she is.
His gaze flickers in my direction as he shifts. “Sorry. Willow.” After removing his chest and elbow pads, he bends down to unlace his skates. “Why didn’t you mention it? I had to hear about it from Juliette.”
I shrug as anger bubbles up inside me. It takes effort to keep it under wraps. “What else do you expect when you spend all of your time with her?”