Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 88895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
“Are these updates why he’s cranky or why you are?”
Shooting him a playful smirk is attached to backing out of the walk in.
I don’t really hate any of it.
It’s an oddly fun thing to do while Gladiator plays in the background.
Plus, for the first time since I’ve lived here, the place feels more like a home than just somewhere I crash.
Ugh.
He’s turning me into a girly broadskie.
It’s so gross.
Post quickly throwing on one of Tanner’s old jerseys and him a pair of workout shorts, the two of us follow Bear to the front door where he is steadily griping about someone being on our doorstep.
The instant we realize who it is we state in tandem, “Banco.”
Bear plops his ass on the floor beside my feet but continues to hold his large torso in a protective position.
Becks barely waits for the blockade to finish opening before grumbling, “This is gonna be a long week together, aye, pup?”
Confusion has me and my other half crinkling our foreheads in tandem, yet it’s him who speaks, “What?”
“You’re gonna be gone a full week, right?” Beck casually shoves his hands into his pockets. “Starting tomorrow.”
“Next Thursday,” sighs Tanner at the same time he opens the door to usher the guy who now rents his old apartment into our house. “You are an entire seven days too early.”
“Shit,” mumbles the guy I’m so glad has stayed sober during his entrance, “my bad.” Once the door is shut behind him, he shrugs off the mistake. “I’m here. You two wanna order wings?”
Light laughs leave me as he gives a warm rub to Bear’s head. “When don’t we?”
“You think you’ll have them at your wedding?”
“We do not even bloody know when we’re having a wedding,” gripes his best friend, “let alone what we will be serving.”
The three of us head towards the living room that was painted the previous week. “Wait, you two still haven’t picked a date but are going to look at venues in another country?”
“Concert,” I correct on a shake of the head. “We’re going to see Shakira, a bit of the country, and visit his adorable old gran who happens to think I should’ve gotten a bigger ring, by the way.”
“And to eat pepperoncini wings,” Tanner adds during our flop onto the couch that used to be in his apartment, as opposed to the one I had when I lived alone.
It wasn’t uncomfortable.
It just wasn’t as comfortable as this one, which is basically like sleeping on a giant pillow.
“Mmm…undecided there,” creeps out of me after Bear joins us forcing Becks onto the other piece of empty furniture.
“We are having those wings, Ducky.”
“We are not not having them, Hamster Boy.”
The eye roll that leaves him gets us all chuckling.
Of course, I totally plan to try them – come on, it’s wings – but I gotta give him shit first.
It’s in my nature.
“And we really should pick a date.” He extends an arm around the back of the sofa while my feet stretch out into this lap. “That’s not during the season.”
“Yeah, every hockey fiancée, pretty much has to have a fucking summer wedding.”
“Or when the season ends if leur équipe est nulle.”
“Thankfully, the Dragons don’t suck,” I sassily sneer, “meaning we have to get married over the summer.”
“But not the week of training camp,” Tanner points out.
“Or the team outing event,” I remind.
“Or the annual family skate.”
“Or when Cap got married.”
“Or on his birthday.”
“This sounds way harder than picking a place to get wings from,” Becks interjects while retrieving his cell. “Maybe you two agree on that first and then move onto harder shit like a date or place or cake flavor.”
“Wing Warriors,” we answer in tandem, bearing matching grins.
“See,” our most frequent houseguest teases, “you can do it.”
Of course we can.
Not doing it is just our pregame style for most life situations, especially the major ones.
And as our game of life continues to change, I get the feeling so will our ritchies.
Which I don’t mind.
Being on the same team with Tanner Frosky – for work, for love, for food – definitely beats not being on one with him at all.
***