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)
Grace was fucking thrilled.
I was just happy the guy didn’t ask to take pictures or beg me to sign anything. He treated me like a VIP, but without the need to brag about being in my vicinity. It was refreshing, and it also brought me peace knowing Grace and I were safe there.
After dinner, I listened to Grace humming a song I didn’t recognize as she did her nighttime routine in the bathroom. I was stretched out on the bed, one arm behind my head as I stared up at the ceiling.
We were just three hours from my parents.
The proximity made anxiety swim in my gut. I felt like a fucking asshole for not wanting to see them, but in the same breath, my self-preservation reminded me on repeat why seeing them would be a bad idea.
It was hard enough to put up with my father’s constant attack on my performance over the phone. In person? He was relentless. And it was always harder to listen to him when I could also see what hockey had taken from him, what a shit hand he’d been dealt.
It made me feel sorry for him instead of feel like I had any right to ask him to leave me the fuck alone.
“Holy shit!”
Grace gasped, and I shot up from where I was reclining. “You okay?”
She bounded into the dark room, her eyes wide and bright like a kid on Christmas morning. She leapt into the bed, balancing on her knees and pointing at her forehead.
“I have a wrinkle!”
I blinked, and then blew out a breath, shaking my head. “Fucking Christ, woman. I thought you were hurt.”
“Look!” she said, ignoring my concern. She leaned closer to me, into the light from the lamp on our nightstand, tapping that spot on her forehead again. “See it?”
“No,” I answered honestly.
She scowled, which made her skin fold on itself. “See it now?”
“That doesn’t count.”
She sighed, slapping her hands against her thigh. “You’re being grumpy. I totally have a wrinkle.”
“Why do you want me to confirm this? Weren’t you just moisturizing your face to combat wrinkles?”
“No, I was moisturizing my face because it’s dry as hell up here,” she said, and then she climbed into my lap, threading her arms around my neck. God, I loved when she did that, when she touched me like it was natural, when she wrapped herself around me like we were the perfect fit.
“I like wrinkles.”
She said the words as she reached up to remove my glasses, and then her fingers traced my skin — around my eyes, my mouth, over my forehead.
“They’re proof you’ve laughed, you’ve cared, you’ve hurt.” She swallowed, her fingers lingering over the line I knew existed between my brows whether I was frowning or not. “Proof that you’ve lived.”
I covered her hand with my own, pulling her knuckles to my lips for a kiss. Her face was so bright and open and honest, this girl who continued to surprise me no matter how much time we spent together. Here she was tracing the deep lines in my skin like they were beautiful, all while saying she was happy to earn a wrinkle of her own.
She lived this life like no one I had ever met before.
And right there in that dingy fucking hotel room, I felt three words slam into my chest like a semi-truck.
I loved her.
Fuck.
I loved her the way I loved breathing, the way I loved the feel of fresh ice under my skates and fresh snow on the mountains. I loved her as if there was no choice.
And maybe there never was.
Maybe it didn’t matter that it was cruel and impossible, that loving her was sentencing myself to a life of pain. I’d been drawn to her since the first moment I knew she existed, like my soul wouldn’t allow me any other option.
I loved her — even though I could never fully have her.
The urge to tell her danced on my tongue, forcing my mouth open. But I clamped it shut again and swallowed the words down, burying them deep.
“There’s no one in this world like you, Grace Tanev,” I said instead.
She smiled, leaning into my palm when I reached up to touch her face.
“We’ll be in your hometown tomorrow,” she said.
“We will.”
“You okay?”
I heaved a sigh. “Yes and no.”
“We don’t have to stay long.”
I swallowed, looking at where my thumb smoothed the line of her jaw. “Actually, I was going to talk to you about that.”
Grace stiffened even before I said anything more, and the words felt like lead as I tried to push them out.
“Remember when we started the trip, and I told you I had a training booked with some of the team?” I asked.
I waited, wondering if I’d need to explain further, but hockey had been a part of Grace’s entire life, too. Vince was one of the guys who went in on booking the ice, so she probably already knew about how it all worked.