Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 112917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
I’d never heard that story before, and I wanted to ask follow-up questions, but I figured that wasn’t part of the game. Instead, I nodded toward the sauces.
Bear dragged his pita through a thicker dip that was light green in color. His face remained impassive as he chewed, so I assumed the green one was safe also.
“My turn.” He gave me a teasing grin. “Who’s ‘Sugar Time Easy’ written about?”
That was easy. “Jude Marian.”
Bear’s eyebrows shot up. “No shit? Why don’t you ever tell people that? Everyone knows how much you love him.”
“We allowed to ask follow-up questions?” I teased. But I answered him anyway. “My relationship with music growing up was… it was like that winter survival blanket of yours. It saved my life. When I had Jude’s warm, easy voice in my ears…” I let out a breath. “I could relax for a little while. It made me happy. His voice is like butter.”
“And now you’ve opened for him and written a song with him, and you’re performing with him at the fundraiser in Berlin,” Bear said softly.
“I know. I still can’t fathom it. Can you imagine having the person you think is the coolest, kindest, most talented human on the planet actually know your name and consider you kind of a… a friend? It’s crazy.”
“Yeah.” Bear’s smile warmed a fraction. “It’s crazy alright.” Before I could ask what he meant by that, he pushed the sauce platter toward me. “Go for it.”
I cautiously chose a dip that had an orangish tinge. This time, I wasn’t so lucky with the horseradish. Hot fire seared my mouth, and my eyes watered slightly.
Bear chuckled at my reaction. “Note to self: avoid the orange.”
I gulped the cold beer greedily, trying to wash off Satan’s own taint from my tongue, and narrowed my eyes. This time, I wasn’t going easy on him.
“Biggest crush?”
“Ooof.” He winced. “Uh… Jude Marian?”
He was clearly parroting my earlier answer, and the twinkle in his eye said he wasn’t even trying to hide it.
“Liar.” I tossed a carrot stick at him and pointed to the red sauce that looked like actual lava. “Dip deep, my friend. Dip deep.”
While Bear loaded sauce on the carrot stick, I thought of a second question. I had so many things I wanted to know that weren’t appropriate, like whether he was gay, and whether he’d liked our kiss, and why he wouldn’t answer about his crush.
Instead, as he put his penalty carrot in his mouth, I asked a bigger question. “If you could have any dream in the future, what would it be?”
Bear’s nostrils flared, and his eyes looked pained as they flashed to me. He made a big production out of chewing and swallowing before answering, and I mentally patted myself on the back for avoiding the red sauce myself. Clearly, it was awful.
“I, um…” Bear coughed slightly. “I have a lot of dreams. That’s a pretty broad question…”
“Are you hedging? What’s the penalty for hedging?” I demanded, pretending to reach for my phone. “Please give me King Gerhard’s phone number so I can call him and—”
“Hush.” He put one large hand on mine, halting my movement… and the flow of oxygen to my lungs. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t answer. I just need to think about it.”
I raised one eyebrow but waited patiently with my hand still trapped under his while he grabbed a shrimp from the platter and chewed, probably hoping to cleanse the last of the fire sauce from his tongue.
“I… I always daydreamed about saving up to buy a piece of property somewhere like this. Not Norway,” he said quickly. “I mean a big open piece of land in a place where winter brings plenty of snow for playing outside. I’d like to open a winter sports camp. For kids.”
I blinked. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected him to say, but it hadn’t been that. “Tell me more.”
“You know I love biathlon. It set me on a good path and gave structure to my life at a time when I didn’t have any. But winter sports require some pretty extensive equipment—skis, rifles, clothing, shooting ranges, synthetic tracks… snow, which is really hard to come by in lots of places. I’d love to be able to give kids the opportunity to experience that, the way I did.” His eyes met mine before he quickly looked away. “I’m sure that sounds silly. The world has much larger problems to solve than winter sports—”
“Actually…” I leaned forward. “I think that sounds amazing. Not everybody has gobs of money to throw at problems, Bear. I sure didn’t, for most of my life. I think figuring out how each of us can use our own skills and passions to make the world a better, more equitable place is… maybe the best and most important idea I’ve ever heard.”