Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
“You’re going home?”
“Yep.”
“Right now?”
“I have a tour starting soon, in case you forgot.”
I frowned, dodging her acid-soaked arrows all while wondering why the hell they were pointed at me.
“It’s already late,” I tried. “Just… stay tonight, and then—”
“I’m going,” she interrupted, her eyes hard when they snapped to mine. “And I would really appreciate if you could just give me some fucking space right now.”
Damn it, it pissed me off that she was doing this, that she was pushing me away when I had no fucking idea what I’d done wrong. But I didn’t want to upset her any more than I apparently had, so I backed up, sliding over to the opposite window and watching as the lights of the bridge passed by on our way back to Tampa.
“You two did amazing,” Isabella said when she’d made her calls. “The Internet is melting down.”
“Oh, my God. Look!” Giana showed Isabella first before holding her phone up toward me and Mia. “The video already has half-a-million views. I literally just put it up, like… what!?”
Mia and I shared a look.
Neither one of us smiled.
And for the rest of the ride, everyone was silent.
• • •
When we made it back to the house Mia had been staying in, she threw her car door open and stormed up the driveway.
Giana and Isabella both jumped when she slammed the door shut behind her, and then they looked at me. I muttered a curse word before hopping out of the SUV and chasing after my grouchy bride-to-be.
“Mia.”
“Leave me alone, Aleks.”
“Would you just fucking stop for a second?”
I caught her by the elbow, not gripping her tight but holding just enough to spin her to look at me.
“What the hell is going on?”
“Nothing. I’m fine. I just want to go home and sleep in my own fucking bed. I want to get away from the noise. I want to focus on my tour and take a break from this… this… charade.”
“You’re mad at me.”
She scoffed. “Why would I be mad at you?”
“That’s the exact question I’ve been asking myself since I showed up here this afternoon. Care to enlighten me?”
Mia tongued her cheek, folding her arms over her chest and shaking her head. Then, she let out a long breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’m fine. Really. I am not mad at you.”
Lie.
I knew it and she did, too.
“I’m just… tired, okay?”
Her blue eyes found mine with that statement, holding my gaze and silently begging me to let it go.
But when she turned toward the house, I was already moving with her.
I couldn’t let it go.
I couldn’t let her go — not like this.
“Talk to me,” I begged, pulling her to a stop again.
She let her hands fly up and hit her thighs with a slap. “Jesus Christ, Aleks.”
“What happened? Last night, you were happy and carefree and having a fucking blast. Then today, you act like I personally offended you somehow. Just… tell me. Tell me what I did.”
Her nose flared, eyes watering as she looked anywhere but at me.
It fucking broke me.
“Mia,” I croaked, stepping into her. When she didn’t move, I couldn’t help myself — I reached for her, cradling her face in my hands and forcing her to look up at me. “Please. Tell me what’s going on.”
She closed her eyes for a long moment, and when she opened them again, two tears slid down to hit my thumbs where I held her.
“We already got the shot, Aleks,” she whispered. “Please… just let me go.”
My heart thrashed in my chest. My body screamed no in every fucking language I knew.
But I did what she asked me to — even when it killed me to do it.
As soon as I released her, she turned, rushing toward the house without so much as a backward glance.
And I watched her tear that ring off her finger just before she disappeared inside the front door.
All Business
Aleks
October
“Look alive, Brittzy!” I baited, keeping the puck steady with my stick tapping on either side of it. I skated right up to him, blades slashing into the ice, and I read him like a book in just a split second. He was moving to my left to steal the puck.
So I went right.
He nearly fell as I whizzed past him, and I laughed all the way to the net as I broke away. Daddy P was in a low squat in front of the net, glove hand positioned, poised and ready to block my shot. That beastly body of his looked nearly impossible to bypass.
But I was on fire today, and not even he could stop me.
I slapped it in, the puck flying just between his left knee pad and the glove on his hand and rewarding me with the satisfied sound of hitting the back of the net.