Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Andi’s belly keeps growing, the guys keep training for the upcoming season, we spend a few nights a week all hanging out at Jesse’s cabin or one of the bars, and time feels like it’s passing by too quickly.
When nobody is looking, Nolan and I have still been slipping away to sleep together. We do it in bathrooms, at a park, behind the concession stand at the harbor, and a few other places I wouldn’t admit under torture. Mostly, though, he sneaks over to the rental and we use my bed.
I’m pretty sure everybody suspects something. My friends know, of course, but I don’t think Nolan’s teammates do. We don’t talk about it, partly because I’m not sure either of us knows what we would even call our “arrangement.”
We’re not even quite friends with benefits. That would imply we’re hanging out talking all the time. Instead, we’re like co-workers with benefits. Or acquaintances with benefits. When we do sleep together, it feels purely physical. We fuck, and then he leaves. That’s all.
I keep thinking I’m going to get the courage to tell him to stay one of these days. I want to tell him to come back and cuddle or talk, but I can read in his body language how that might go. He’d tell me it was a bad idea. Worse, he might even break things off if he suspected I wanted our arrangement to grow into anything beyond what it is.
And me? I guess I’m too much of a coward to risk the scraps of him I’m getting by trying for more.
The hockey offseason ends in two days, and I’m in the middle of taste testing a batch of our new syrup reduction. We’re going to start offering brunch a few days a week, and Nolan wants to get the syrup perfected before he leaves for the hockey season.
We haven’t talked about the fact that he’s leaving or what that will mean for us. I’m not sure we will, either.
I watch him lift a spoon to his lips and taste. He scowls, then pushes the container to Zander, who gives it a try.
Zander shakes his head. “We reduced it too far,” he says.
I try it, nodding my agreement.
Paisley tastes it and taps her chin in thought. “Or maybe we could add less raspberry. Reduce it further, but add some water. See if the sweetness from the reduction tastes better than sweetness from the raspberries?”
Nolan nods. “Good idea. Let’s try it.”
We all move into motion. It’s a familiar dance, by now. Edgar doesn’t come much, but that’s because he’s busy with Grams. The two of them spend a concerning amount of time together. I guess it has saved me from Grams continuing her matchmaking efforts with Nolan, but I don’t love the images it puts in my mind, either.
We’re wrapping up about a half hour later, all in agreement that we need another session tomorrow to finalize the recipe.
Zander and Paisley head out, waving their goodbyes to us.
Nolan comes toward me with a look in his eyes I recognize. He’s wearing his black chef’s coat and pants. His sandy blonde hair is pushed back from his face and the light white slash of his scar cuts across his full lips. He’s perfect, and he’s lifting a hand to touch my cheek like he’s about to kiss me.
“Hold on,” I say.
He stops, frowning and then stepping back. “Everything okay?”
“You guys all leave in two days,” I say.
His jaw ticks. “We do.”
My heart is already pounding. I had no idea I was about to have this conversation, but my mouth started moving before my brain could put on the brakes. “I wanted to make sure we were on the same page,” I say slowly. I don’t know exactly what I’m trying to say or hoping to get across. I just know I feel weird about what’s coming, and I don’t like the idea of not talking about it before he leaves.
“Alright. What page do you want us to be on?” he asks.
There’s a coldness to his words. If I was going to say more, his tone stops me from opening up. I look down, shaking my head a little. “Nevermind,” I say. “Let’s just fuck. That’s what you want, right?”
He reels back at that. It’s obvious I’m upset by my tone. “I want it if we both want it. You know that, Mia.”
I sigh and melt into him, wrapping my arms around him. He seems confused, but hugs me back.
“I’m going to miss you,” I admit. “Am I allowed to say that? Or is that violating our agreement?” There’s a bitter bite to my words, but I don’t care. I’m pissed at myself for letting things happen this way.
He rubs a slow circle on my back, but there’s a stiffness to his body. I’ve said something wrong. “I”ll miss you too,” he says a little too robotically. “But we both knew how this ended. We knew it the whole time.”