Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
When she hides her fifth yawn, I look at her. “How do you get more beautiful?” I ask her as she lies in the bed with a soft light in the background. Her eyes look down shyly when I say that.
“I’m not beautiful,” she says, and her voice is soft, almost as though she’s embarrassed.
“You are so much more than beautiful,” I say, and suddenly, I wish I could reach out and push the hair behind her ear and lean over and kiss her. Softly. “I’m going to get to bed.”
“Me too,” she says. “Sweet dreams, Evan.”
“Sweet dreams, my sweet Zara,” I tell her. She looks at me with that sly smile again and then disconnects. I turn off the lights in my bedroom, and I fall asleep with her smile on my mind.
Chapter Thirteen
Zara
“Thank you so, so much,” Kellie says, hugging me when the car arrives to bring me to the airport. It’s been a whirlwind of four days filled with fittings and design changes. We hit up a couple of designers who bent over backward to design what she needed. I even picked up a little something in case I went to the casino night with Evan.
Every single night, we’ve spent hours and hours on the phone talking. He makes me laugh at the stupidest things. He also is hands down the hottest guy I’ve ever seen. When he traveled and FaceTimed me wearing his cashmere Burberry jacket and beanie, I swear I had drool dribble out of my mouth. His scruff makes it that much hotter. I’m usually drawn to a clean-shaven man, but something about Evan just makes it.
“I want you to promise me you’ll go to that casino party,” Kellie says to me, rubbing my back. I usually never bring my private life into anything, but she saw me on SportsCenter and had to ask me about it. When I told her the story, she was bent over laughing. “Even if I have to send the plane to LA and drag you to Dallas myself.”
I laugh at her and go to hug her husband, Brian. “I would listen to her if I were you,” he says, and I just shake my head.
“Thank you guys so much for having me,” I tell them both and watch the driver load my bag into the car. I get into the car and text my sister that I am on my way home.
I don’t bother texting Evan because I know he got in last night close to two a.m. They have their game tonight at home, and then he’s off again for another two games road trip. I jog up the steps to get on the plane and smile at the flight attendant when she asks to take my jacket. I shrug it off and give it to her and walk to the table and see a square white box on it.
“Those were delivered less than two minutes ago,” she says, and I turn and take off the curled ribbon. When I open the box, I laugh because there are four cupcakes in the box. With a little note on the side.
A sweet treat for my sweet Zara.
E.
I shake my head and sit on the chair, taking a picture of it and adding it to my Instagram.
A sweet treat for a sweet Zara. I don’t tag him, but I know he’ll see it. He’s been all over my Instagram these past couple of days. Liking pictures. Sending me DMs about my pictures. And they come at all hours of the night. Probably when he’s on the bus or the plane.
They look too good to eat, but I reach in and grab a red velvet one, which is my favorite. I bite into it, and I swear it’s the best cupcake of life. The cream cheese frosting is whipped, which makes it so much lighter.
I’m taking my second bite when I see that Justin, my younger brother, commented on my picture. I open it up.
You have never been called sweet in your WHOLE LIFE.
I laugh and answer him back.
It just depends for who.
I click on his name and see that he has just one picture up, which I know is a freaking lie. I know he has a secret Instagram that is not for family members. I also know that Snapchat is his social media of choice. He’s going to turn eighteen in a couple of months, and from what I’ve been told, he’s a hot one on the ice, and his extra activities off ice have him nicknamed “Sly Stone.”
The flight goes by faster than I thought, and by the time I’m finished checking my email and responding, the flight attendant is opening the door for me. I walk out, and I’m met by Zoe who stands by her Town Car. Her phone in her hand as her fingers fly over the keyboard.