Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
“Bouchard. Do I need to fine you for being a cocky fucker?” It’s Stefan, and he’s knotting his tie too.
“Only if you fine yourself. I learned it from you,” I toss back, then I give him a tip of the proverbial cap and head out with my friends, ready to put the game behind us and the night ahead of us.
Once we’re alone in the hall, Gavin tugs us aside once more. “Here’s the plan. We need to start a new streak.”
I blink. That doesn’t compute with what he said earlier.
Rhys tilts his head in question. “I thought you were over streaks. You gave a whole pre-game speech about tacos,” Rhys says, like he’s catching him on a technicality.
Gavin sighs. If a sigh could say are you kidding me, Gavin’s does. “That was not a speech about tacos. You were missing the point.”
“Right, right, tacos and love,” Rhys says, making a rolling gesture for Gavin to speed it up.
“Which are sort of the same thing,” I point out since I’m helpful like that.
“Fine. You got the point,” Gavin grumbles, then quickly moves on. “What if the new streak is this—we can’t just tell her we’re in love with her. A few weeks ago, she got out of a terrible relationship with a jackass who tossed her stuff into garbage bags and tried to steal her pet and did steal her ideas. In Lucky Falls, we showed her what a great boyfriend does hypothetically. But now—”
“You beautiful bastard,” I say, grabbing his shoulders. “You’re right.”
“I know,” Gavin says dryly.
Rhys flicks his gaze from Gavin to me and back. “What are you saying? That we show her what a great boyfriend does for real?”
I’m ready to do it now. Right now. “Let’s show Briar what we can be for her,” I say, unable to hold back a second longer.
For most of my career, I was sure romance would get in the way of my responsibilities to my family, to promises I made my mom to step up since my dad never did. Hell, Briar and I even bonded over this. She understood my fears in a way no one else ever has. But with these guys I’ve learned I don’t have to shoulder all the work myself. I can lean on friends. Maybe, just maybe, I can lean on a partner too. And when you know what you want, it’s fucking hard to wait. But we have to prove ourselves to Briar, so as much as I want to charge down the hall right now and scoop her up in my arms, I say, “Let’s show her that we’re not just trying to fuck her or touch her. That we can be her friends like we promised and that we can also love her.”
“Like she deserves,” Gavin adds, like a punctuation mark.
Rhys chuckles. “It’s so bloody cute when you two finish each other’s sentences.” Then his expression grows solemn. “I’m in. And it starts with her dog.”
63
SUPERFAN
Rhys
I’ve already logged one session with the sports psychologist. I’m not saying it cured my anxiety. I know I need many more, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be cured.
I want many more.
But before I even walked in his door earlier this week and told him I play hockey like I’m afraid it’ll be taken away, and that I want to play it like it’s my favorite game, I realized that I was ready for a real romance with Briar.
I started to feel that certainty in Lucky Falls.
I was nearly sure of it when we peeled out of the driveway, leaving her behind.
And I knew it for good when I called her the other night and finally let her all the way in.
Now, we just need to show her.
It. Is. On.
Briar’s hanging out down the corridor with Ivy, who’s likely waiting for Hayes and Stefan to go home with them. When Briar spots us, she says something to her friend, then smiles and walks over. “Great game,” she says, and for a second she leans in, like maybe she wants to kiss me, then Gavin, then Hollis.
She refrains.
I hold back, too, though it’s hard. “I bet your dog needs a walk right now. How about we go with you?”
A smile spreads to her eyes, lighting them up. “She does. And I’d love that.”
After she quickly runs up to her apartment to grab Donut we walk around her new neighborhood and she shows us all her haunts—the coffee shop she likes, the bookstore that hosts her book club, and the boutiques her friends frequent but she avoids like the plague since she’s allergic to shopping, she says, as we pass one called Better with Pockets. “Thanks again for the ticket. That was really great. I’m not used to gifts…from friends.” She says the last word with a lift in her brow and a tease in her tone.