Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“I’m gonna be the best tennis player in the world.”
“Oh yeah, what about your sister?”
That seemed to throw her off. Frowning, she looked away. “We’re both gonna be the best in the world.”
“You sit here.” I pointed to the toilet and grabbed the hydrogen peroxide, the anti-bacterial ointment, and the big square Band-Aid from the cabinet. “Girls can’t beat boys so you can’t be the best.”
“Yes, I can!” She jumped up from the toilet seat, furious, her face flushed.
I laughed. “I was teasing you, stupid.”
Eyes directed at the floor in embarrassment, she sat back down and I went about patching her up, soaked a cotton pad with peroxide, dabbed the wound the same way I’d seen my father do it a thousand times to me and watched her flinch.
“Does it hurt?”
“Nah,” she said with a shake of her head.
I smiled, holding back the urge to laugh at her again. Her cheeks turning white pretty much confirmed she was lying. I finished applying the ointment and the Band-Aid while she watched my every move.
“Noah––” she said a short time later, once we were back in front of the TV playing the video game.
“What?”
“Will you marry me when we get old? I promise I won’t fight with you.”
It sounded like a good plan at the time. She liked sports, jumping off of cliffs, and video games. And being old was a good long ways away so I shrugged and said, “Okay.”
But it was the way she looked at me that got me. Like she’d put her dreams in my hands for safekeeping. That kind of trust. That look had the power to make me feel invincible.
Over the years it pushed me to do better, be a better person, to become the guy she put on a pedestal. No one had ever looked at me that way before, and no one has ever looked at me that way since. Not since she walked out of my life. It took me way too long to understand that someone believing in you like that can make all the difference in the world.
* * *
Jermaine’s Navigator rolls up while I’m working on a bike in the barn behind the club. It’s my home away from home and where I come to clear my head. There’s something about the complete focus building bikes and restoring vintage cars requires, the simplicity of it with no room for interpretation, that quiets the restlessness. Doesn’t look like I’ll be getting any today though.
Grabbing the bandana out of the back pocket of my jeans, I wipe the sweat off my brow. He strolls up like we don’t both know why he’s here.
“When you gonna build me one of those?”
I keep tinkering with the frame I’m putting together, not bothering to look his way. “When your wife stops threatening my life if I do.”
J doesn’t mess around when Nyla puts her foot down. He has five kids to raise. A health scare caused him to retire from playing center for the Kansas City Chiefs a few years ago. Since then he’s shed a hundred pounds and gotten his health back, but I can’t blame his wife for being overprotective.
“I hear Maren’s back.” He slides onto one of the stools near the bike I’m working on.
The meeting in Tim’s office went just about as bad as it could have. The minute I saw her sitting there it didn’t matter that I’d prepared myself. It didn’t matter that I promised to keep it strictly business. Nope. I saw her sitting there, looking more beautiful than ever, and I got so damn nervous I almost sweat through my suit.
The hell was I even thinking wearing a suit? You wanted to impress her, dipshit.
“Hand me the monkey wrench. Third one on the bottom tray.” J hands it over and I take my frustration out on the bike. “Who told you?”
“There’s talk.” He wipes his face with the hem of his sleeveless OKC Thunder t-shirt. “Dang, it’s hot today.”
Standing, I go to the refrigerator I installed when I remodeled the barn, grab two water bottles, and throw him one.
“Talk? Where?”
“My mother’s knitting circle––where the fuck you think? Your wife called me.”
Dane is worse than a dog with a bone. If I didn’t love him like a brother, I’d block him.
“What about it?” I feign a casual attitude because I know all too well if he gets wind of anything more, the two of them won’t give me a minute’s peace.
I had plans for my life that did not resemble the one I’m living––not in the least. I’m not complaining, mind you. I’m blessed in many ways. I have a thriving business, good friends. Do I miss the one I’d envisioned for myself? Hell, yeah. Some days so badly it brings me to my knees. But I’ve accepted that life doesn’t always behave the way you want it to. Sometimes you’re forced to make compromises, do things you wouldn’t normally dream of doing to survive––and sometimes you have to forfeit your soul in the process.