Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
I think about pressing the red button to reject it, but my fingers have other plans.
“Hey,” she says when her face finally fills the screen, and my heart rate slowly returns to normal. “Are you busy?”
“No,” I tell her and look at her face, and my anxiety is kept at bay now. She has tiny, tiny freckles on her nose that you can barely see. “Just got to the hotel.”
“Oh, good,” she says. “The movers just left,” she tells me, and I see she’s in my apartment. “It looks like everything is here.” She turns the screen, and boxes cover my whole apartment. “I made a couple of executive decisions with the furniture.”
“What kind of executive decisions?” I ask.
“Well, I figured that since the boxes were labeled, they should go in their designated rooms,” she says, and I just watch her. “I made them set up the couch and the dining room in the area,” she says, showing me.
“Oh, I didn’t know they did that,” I say, feeling a touch relieved I don’t have to move the boxes. “I thought it was just dump and go.”
“They don’t usually, but when you bat your eyes and act helpless, it gets people moving,” she says with a smirk. Looking into her eyes, I know I would do it for her if she asked me. “Anyway, it looks like it’s all here.”
“I definitely have my work cut out for me this weekend,” I tell her, wondering if she has any plans this weekend. Is she coming to the game? “We have a game on Saturday, but then we are off for three days.”
“Well, if you need help, let me know,” she says. “I’m going to leave now.”
“Where are all the balloons?” I ask, trying to keep her on the phone. I notice that they aren’t there even though I left them there this morning.
“That’s another executive decision I made. I cleaned up,” she says.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I tell her. “I have someone coming in to clean the house twice a week.”
“Well, it was either clean up or go and smell your clothes,” she jokes, laughing. “I figured it would be safer to clean.”
I shake my head, laughing. She just saved me from having a panic attack, and she didn’t even know it. “So are you saying I won’t find your hair in my bed?”
“I never said that,” she teases. “I didn’t smell your clothes. I never said anything about your pillow.” She laughs. “Anyway, my car is here, so I’m out.”
“Thank you,” I say. She did even more than she knows. She salutes me and disconnects. It’s only after she hangs up that I notice that my heartbeat is back to normal, my hands are dry, and the weight that was on my chest is lighter.
“She’s just a friend,” I remind myself. “Just a friend.” Though my brain doesn’t really agree. “Just a friend who talked you off a ledge without even knowing it,” I say, getting up again. This time, it’s without the weight on my chest.
Chapter Fourteen
Zoe
“Why, why do we have to watch the hockey game?” I groan from my side of the couch. “You’ve already scored him.” I look over at Zara who lies on her side with a huge cover over her. We just finished eating Chinese, and she switched on the game.
“Because I always watch the game,” she says. “If you watched, you’d like it, too.”
I glare at her. “You hated hockey for twenty-two years, and now, all of a sudden, it’s a great thing,” I point out to her and get up, heading to the kitchen. I grab a water bottle and then walk back into the room. When I hear the announcer says Viktor’s name, my eyes shoot up to the television screen to watch. This is not helping with me frantically trying to remind myself that he is off-limits.
“He’s back in the lineup,” the announcer says. “No one thought it would be possible for him to come back.” I watch him skate up the ice, and I wonder if he’s nervous. “Petrov takes the puck out of the zone and brings it up, passing it to Richards who sends it up over the glass.”
“What does that mean?” I ask Zara who’s now looking at me with her head tilted to the side.
“It means they are going to have a face-off in the neutral zone,” she tells me. I roll my eyes, but my eyes go right back to the screen as I watch him skate down the ice. My finger starts to tap the water bottle nervously.
The announcer continues talking about Viktor. “I didn’t think anyone would pick him up after his disastrous season with LA.”
“Well,” another voice says, “I’m not sure what Grant is thinking by signing him.” I want to yell at the screen and tell them to shut the fuck up, but I don’t. Instead, I just scoff.