Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
“I agree,” I tell her, surprised she said that.
“And I mean, if one thing leads to another and we end up in bed …” she says with a smirk.
“Not going to happen,” I tell her, shaking my head. Shock shows across her face, but then she covers it up as fast as she can. “I don’t have sex without being in a relationship.”
“And I don’t have relationships, so we got that topic crossed off,” she says.
“I think we can agree on that one. Sex is off the table,” I tell her. Even though my hands want to grab her hair and grip it back while I pound into her, forcing her to admit that she misses me as much as I miss her. “I want to be your friend, Vivienne,” I tell her. “Go out, have dinner, and catch up.”
“I guess we can do that since we are on the same page for everything else,” she says, and I look at my watch.
“I have to run,” I lie, and she gets up at the same time, grabbing her drink. When I see her with her fuck-me boots on, my cock goes rock hard in under three seconds. We walk out side by side, and my hand grazes hers lightly. I’m expecting her to move her hand out of the way, but she doesn’t. She keeps it there like it doesn’t bother her, but I see her shiver. When we walk out of the shop, I turn to her and hug her. She lets out a gasp and then doesn’t say anything else when I lean in and kiss her cheek again. “This was nice. We should do it again.”
“Yes,” she says, smiling and walking away from me to the edge of the sidewalk and putting up her hand to flag down a cab. “We should.” A cab stops in front of her. “I’ll send the fish over tomorrow, since you’re out tonight.”
“I’ll text you when I get in tomorrow,” I say to make her jealous, and she just nods as she gets into the car, and I watch her drive away. The red brake lights end up in a sea of brake lights. I walk back to my house and let myself in and shrug off my jacket, tossing it on the stool in the kitchen when I grab my prepared meal out of the fridge and zap it in the microwave. I eat standing in the kitchen and then pick up my jacket and go to my room.
My phone pings in my pocket, and I take it out and see that it’s Vivienne.
Vivienne: I forgot to mention that I bought food for the fish, but I’m not sure if it’s the same food you use. Have fun on your date.
I shake my head and look at my watch. It’s right before seven thirty. I think about answering her, but I don’t. I get into bed and turn on the game, and the whole night, I wonder if she’s in bed or if she’s watching one of her movies. When I finally fall asleep, I swear I could feel her next to me.
The next day, I walk into the rink with my shake in one hand, and then for five hours, I lose myself in work. When I finally walk back out, I look at my phone, and see it’s almost four o’clock.
Me: Sorry I didn’t call you this morning. I was late rushing into the rink. I’ll be home in an hour if you want to send the fish over.
I wait for her to answer, and when I walk into the apartment, it feels so empty. We have a home game tomorrow, then we leave for Florida.
She doesn’t text me the whole night, and then the next day, I call her as soon as I leave for the rink. She answers right away, her voice sounding horrible.
“Hey,” I say softly, and she coughs. “Are you okay?”
“No,” she says. “I’m dying.” I try not to laugh. “I was fine, and then I got home from our coffee, and my body started to ache, and then yesterday, I had a fever and then the cough came.”
“Did you go to the doctor?” I ask her with worry and wonder if I can go check on her before I have to get to work. When I look at my watch, I see I can’t.
“Yes, it’s a cold,” she says. “I want a second opinion since he looked like he could be in high school. He didn’t even have facial hair,” she says and then starts to cough again. “I’m sorry about not sending Elsa, but I checked Google and she can’t catch my cold.” I almost want to laugh when I think about her googling it. “Anyway, I have to go lie down.”
“Take care and call me when you feel better,” I tell her, and she groans as she disconnects. I get my Uber app out, and I order her a shit ton of soups to be delivered every hour. Then I call Amanda, who answers on the second ring. “Hey,” I tell her. “I kind of need a special favor.”