Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 121764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
His hair was tousled, no styling whatsoever, and paired with his glasses and his outfit?
It made him look so fucking cozy.
I was particularly fond of those jogger-like shorts and the way they left very little to the imagination.
He couldn’t hide that bulge even if he tried.
“Sound good?” he asked, and I blinked, slapping on a smile like I’d heard every word.
“It sounds like you’re a Type-A planner,” I said.
He frowned. “We can’t just get in the car and drive without having some sort of plan.”
“Why not?”
He opened his mouth, then shut it again.
“Look, we can use this as a guideline,” I said, carefully taking the notepad from his hand. I found it a little irresistible that he’d taken the time to hand write it all down, and I smiled at the thought of him up all night with Google Maps making a plan. “But we need to be open to adventure. What if we want to drive a hundred miles off course to see the World’s Biggest Soup Can? What if we see a sign for a state park we never even knew existed?”
“About the only signs we’ll see in Florida will be for sex shops or Jesus.”
I snorted at the accuracy.
“Fine,” he consented. “My only requirements are that I have to be back in Florida by August, and I need to be in St. Louis for a charity golf tournament on the fourth of July.”
That was just four days away.
“What is it with hockey players and golf?”
“It’s about as close as we can get to hockey in the off-season. Plus, we can’t help but be competitive. Asking us to go months without gloating over kicking each other’s ass is like asking a giraffe not to be tall.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine, we’ll make it to the golf tournament. Oh! I almost forgot,” I said, jogging over to where the Uber had dropped me off. I grabbed the two reusable bags from the driveway, heaving them on to each shoulder. “I have the first round of snacks.”
“First round?” Jaxson asked, using a finger to peek inside one of the overflowing bags. “You’ve got enough to feed the whole fucking league.”
“The best parts about a road trip are the snacks and the music. You’ve got to be prepared.”
“Do you have a playlist, too?”
“Obviously.”
He shook his head, running a hand back through his hair on a grin. It faded quickly, though, his brows furrowing as he glanced at me, then at the SUV, and back.
“Listen… when I asked if you wanted to drive somewhere last night, I originally meant just like… around town or something. I didn’t intend for…”
He paused, and my stomach sank.
“You don’t want to go.”
“No, no, I do,” he said, but all the excitement in my chest was deflating like a pierced float at the Macy’s Thanksgiving parade.
“It’s fine,” I said, grabbing my suitcase handle. “You were just being nice and trying to make me feel better. But I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”
“Grace, stop,” he said, covering my hand to stop me from pulling my suitcase from the trunk.
Heat rushed from that point of contact all the way to my toes. It reminded me of the first time I’d taken his hand in mine and dragged him off that party bus in Austin, how the touch had sparked a flame under my skin and made me dizzy as hell.
Jaxson waited until I looked at him, until I had no choice but to see my image reflected in his blue eyes. “I want to go. I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t.”
I swallowed.
“I just…”
His words faded, and I couldn’t help but smile a little at the fear on his face then. That was a look I’d seen on the face of dozens of boys before. “You’re scared Vince will find out.”
“More like I just don’t think he needs to know.”
“It’s just two friends on a little road trip,” I goaded.
He flattened his lips and leveled me with a glare.
“Relax. We already established that last night, anyway,” I reminded him. “He doesn’t need to know. No one does.”
I hated the way my throat tightened a little with that last sentence.
I was so tired of being the girl who reduced herself to nothing to make everyone else happy.
But the thought had barely skimmed the surface of my brain before I shook it away, smiling and sticking out my hand for Jaxson’s.
“Our little secret,” I said.
“What did you tell him?”
“Vince is my brother, not my dad,” I reminded him. “I left a note that said thanks for the food and the place to crash. He knows I don’t stay in one place for long. Trust me — he won’t think twice about it. He’s got his own shit to worry about, anyway. New house, new fiancée, remember?”
Jaxson nodded, seemingly appeased.
“I just think we need to set some boundaries, too.”