Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 93699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
My mom used to say those words to me whenever I cried about losing a competition or failing to make new friends. She’d hold me in her arms like a child and tell me to zip those phrases around my heart to protect it from disappointment.
I honestly never understood what she meant until this very moment.
Travis is standing on our hotel suite’s balcony, chatting with his assistant on the phone, demanding that he “immediately” order something for Penelope.
Penelope, Penelope, Penelope…
She’s still reigning at number one, and no matter how many hours I train or how much harder I practice, I’m beginning to doubt if I’ll ever reach that spot for myself.
My nights are filled with more anxiety and pain than usual, and I hate that I can’t talk to Travis about this.
I hate that I can’t even mention it.
Maybe I should try. Maybe he would understand.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand mid-thought, and I flip it over.
It’s Miss Price.
Sighing, I hold it up to my ear.
“Hello, Miss Price.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m still out of town,” I say. “Las Vegas.”
“With your boyfriend?”
I nod as if she can see me. “Yes.”
“I figured. Are you around a television by chance?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Turn to the skating channel.”
I oblige and see Penelope giving an interview.
Pretty as usual, she’s standing outside an arena, and the ticker below reads, “Penelope Carter Credits Older Brother, Champion MMA Fighter, for Keeping Her Going.”
“I’m very proud of my brother,” she says. “To go from being an undefeated underground fighter to taking on so many opponents at the professional level, all while never losing and breaking records is mind-blowing.”
It really is.
“He inked a crown tattoo on his arm for me,” she says, smiling. “It’s homage to my childhood nickname, and I appreciate him always mentioning me right after he wins and inviting me to every fight to support him.”
“Does Travis ever mention you after he wins, Tatiana?” Miss Price asks. “I don’t recall any tattoos on his body that are dedicated to you.”
“Our relationship is complicated.”
“I’ll bet,” she says. “Let me ask you something. If push comes to shove, who do you think he’d want to be number one in the world?”
“Miss Price, it’s—”
“He’s living his dreams, she’s living hers, and there you are, still fighting for yours, all while being his little secret,” she interrupts. “The Tatiana Brave who I know and love told me that she was determined to do whatever it took to be number one and consistently land in first place.”
I swallow, feeling my entire body tense at the harshness of her words.
“You can be first place in Travis Carter’s sheets, I guess.” She snorts. “That’s the best you’ll get, because we both know you’ll never be first place in his life at all.”
I don’t say a word.
“When are you coming home to me so we can get to work?”
She doesn’t wait for an answer. “I bought you a one-way plane ticket with a departure from McCarran Airport. The flight leaves at midnight. Let me know what you want to do an hour before then.”
She ends the call, and I stare at Penelope’s onscreen smile through teary eyelashes.
I want Travis so badly that it hurts, but I know that now is not our time, and we can’t be. I have to cut things off now or never and the former isn’t an option.
I slip from under the covers and pull on my jeans. I make sure everything is packed into my bag and run my hands along the five-star hotel's bedsheets one last time.
As I’m setting my room key on the nightstand, Travis returns to the room.
“Hey…” He runs a hand along my bag’s strap. “Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“Check-out isn’t until this weekend.”
“I know, but…” I hold back a sigh. “Something with my coach came up, so I need to go. She literally just called and has a plane ticket waiting for me at the airport.”
“Is something else wrong?”
“I don’t think so.”
He looks deep into my eyes as if he’s trying to discern if I’m lying. Our ongoing game of pretend has helped me master the art of acting.
“Were you planning to tell me goodbye?” he asks.
“No.”
“Hmmm.” He runs his fingers through my hair. “Why does it sound like you won’t be coming back?”
“I don’t know.” I force a smile, and against my better judgment, I hold onto him for a few more moments. “Would you mind driving me to the airport?”
“I insist.” He presses a hand against my back, leading me past the lobby and outside to the valet.
When the car arrives, Travis presses his lips against mine and kisses me.
It’s a perfect, soul-searing kiss that I savor. One that I’ll think about for a long time.
We have a typical conversation on our way to the airport. I ask him about his next fight, apologize for leaving so soon, and he leans over and kisses me at every stoplight.