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)
Jake shrugs. “I noticed Mia didn’t come to any of the games this series. Did you two break things off?”
“She only came to one game last series. And it wasn’t for me.”
“She was wearing your jersey, asshole. Nobody is going to get pissed at you for admitting you two were fucking. I’d rather not beat around the bush. So let’s just skip the part where you keep pretending nothing was happening.”
I consider arguing, but I just thank the bartender for my drink and try to leave for our table. Jake stops me with a hand on my shoulder.
“What happened?” he asks. There’s a sincere intensity in his voice and his face that seems to break through my resistance.
I sigh, letting my shoulders loosen. “It needed to end,” I say.
“You broke things off?”
“I think so.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s letting me hold her back. She’s trying to start a new life. A new career. New dreams. And she’s saving herself for some asshole who is only in town a few weeks every year. She deserves better.”
Jake scoffs. “Come on, man. You and I both know that’s bullshit.”
I frown. “No, it’s not.”
“Maybe she deserves to want what she wants. Ever think of it that way?”
I pause. “No.”
He chuckles. “Right. Well, from where I’ve been sitting, it looks a hell of a lot like she wants you. And it looks like you want her. But you’ve both been too stubborn to move on it. It’s like you’re both telling yourselves some sob story about how you’ll stop the other person from being happy. Why not just admit what you want and go for it?”
“If I wanted to lick the moon, would it matter?”
“What?” Jake asks, laughing.
I grin, shrugging and shaking my head. “I mean… if something is impossible, what does it matter? I’m never going to go to the moon, and I’m never going to be the type of guy Mia can be in a committed relationship with.”
“Okay,” Jake says slowly. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and say you going to the moon is a hell of a lot less likely than you making a relationship with a girl work.”
“Bad example, fine. But the point still stands.”
“Relationships aren’t supposed to be perfect,” Jake says. He gestures vaguely, shaking his head as if he’s almost talking to himself as much as me, now. “People are different. They want things, and those things aren’t always going to line up perfectly with what you want. But the point is you find somebody you care about enough to do it anyway. You’re with them because you can’t not be with them without losing your fucking mind. And you make the compromises and sacrifices because they’re worth it. Simple as that.”
I shrug. “I don’t want to make her compromise for me.”
Jake laughs dismissively, shaking his head. “Come on, dude. You’re trying to make a martyr out of yourself? Is that it? It’s give and take. Accept that. And it’s not even like you two would have to change that much to have a relationship.”
“I’ve got hockey. She’s got the restaurant. Neither of us is going to budge on that. And it’s not enough time if I’m on the road and she’s stuck in Frosty Harbor because of her job. She deserves more.”
“Right. But Andi doesn’t deserve better than what Jesse gives her?”
“What?” I ask.
“You’re right,” he says, clearly teasing me now. “Andi seems so miserable all the time. Jesse, too. It’s just so hard for them to make it work long distance. I know she hates her life. You’d really be doing Mia a favor by breaking her heart.”
“That’s different. Andi doesn’t have as many obligations to be in Frosty Harbor. She can come to every game if she wants to.”
“Yeah. True,” Jake says. “It’s too bad Mia’s boss doesn’t have enough cash to hire another chef to cover for her if she wants to travel for games. Damn,” he says, wincing. “So close to being possible, but too far, I guess. You’re right, man. Might as well try to lick the moon.” He gives my shoulder a squeeze of mock sympathy and heads back to the table.
I linger at the bar, gripping my drink and staring down, thoughts churning.
34
MIA
Caroline sets down coffees and cookies at our table, smiling and pushing up her bright purple glasses. “They’re homemade,” she says, nodding to the cookies. “And if you don’t like them, keep it to yourself.”
I share a smile with Paisley and Zander. Grams and Edgar are still getting situated at the table as they pull off jackets and sit.
We’re all at Caroline’s bed and breakfast. Next week, the Vandals start their series for the Stanley Cup, and I’m still trying to decide if I’m going to join everyone in flying out to watch the matches. Tonight, though, we’re meeting on “neutral ground” because Zander has something to tell us.