Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
“Is she cute?”
His cheek tics. “I guess. She’s nice, and she’s patient, and she doesn’t mind explaining things more than once. She’s got that nerdy library girl look going on.”
I make a sound. “Is that your type? The nerdy library girls?”
“Eh, I don’t really know if I have a type yet.”
“Will her parents be home?”
That flush of his deepens. “Dunno.”
My phone buzzes so I slide it out of my pocket and check the message. It’s from a number I don’t recognize. I key in my passcode and tap on the message.
I’d like to retract my statement about you not wanting to date me.
This is Skye btw.
Skye: We had coffee at The Coffee Emporium, and I stuck my foot in my mouth and then I stuck my tongue in yours.
Skye: :/
Skye: Why isn’t there an unsend feature on text messages? That needs to be an option.
I laugh and compose a response.
Sidney: I highly appreciate your lack of filter even in your text messages.
Sidney: Especially in your text messages.
Sidney: I hoped I’d hear from you.
Sidney: And I’ve been replaying the kiss often over the past two days.
A new message appears:
Skye: Good replay or bad replay?
Sidney: Definitely good. Does this mean you’re saying yes to the date on Friday?
Skye: Yes. I’m saying yes.
“Fuck yeah.” I fist pump the air.
“What’s going on?” Miller glances at me and then refocuses his attention on the road. “Who are you texting? Is it about the draft?”
“Uh no. It’s not about the draft. We’ve got lots of time and there are teams interested in you, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
“Oh okay. What’s got you so excited then? Did someone get signed or something?”
Miller and I don’t keep a lot of secrets from each other. Apart from the fact that I’m pretty sure he’s hooking up with his current tutor, but he’s a seventeen-year-old boy and we’ve had the safe sex talk. If he wants to do it, he’ll find a way. I’d rather it be in a house and bed than the back of a car.
“I have a date.”
“Wait, what?” He takes his eyes off the road.
“Stop sign!” I shout.
He hits the brakes, and my phone goes flying. It slams into the dash, hits the passenger door, drops to the floor, and slides under my seat.
“Shit. Sorry. Dammit. Sorry,” Miller says. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
The person behind us honks. Miller checks both ways before driving through the intersection, then makes a right into the arena. “A date, huh? You finally give in and message one of those ladies from the app?”
“I met her at a coffee shop.”
“Cool.” He taps the steering wheel. “When’s this date?”
“Friday night. But I can schedule it so we go for dinner after your practice.”
“You don’t need to do that, Dad. You’re always at the arena with me. You can skip a night. And Randy can drive me home. We were talking about seeing that new Marvel movie, anyway.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.” He pulls into a spot close to rink three. “That’s great that you’ve got a date, Dad.”
“Blue or silver tie.”
“I say blue. Coordinates with your eyes and the ladies like that.” Randy, my son's best friend and teammate, glances over his shoulder before perusing the contents of my fridge. He’s a bottomless pit. They both are. “You mind if I heat up this leftover pizza?” He holds up the Ziplock bag containing six slices from last night’s dinner.
“Sure, go ahead.”
“You gotta split it with me, though. And I agree on the blue tie,” Miller’s eyes don’t lift from the phone in his hand.
“You didn’t even look.”
“I don’t need to. Whenever you wear that tie the moms flirt with you. Wear it on your date.”
“Where you going for dinner?” Randy asks.
“Spiaggia.”
Randy’s eyebrows pop. “Nice, Mr. B. She must be hot.”
I chuckle and shake my head. “You boys better get a move on, or you’ll be late for practice and then I’ll hear it from your coach.”
“On it.” Miller heads for the front foyer. “Have fun on your date, Dad.”
“You still thinking about that movie?” I ask.
“Depends on the timing, but probably. I’ll be home around eleven, so I can get a solid seven before the game tomorrow morning.”
“Good man. Have a good practice and fun night. Drive safe, Randy.”
“You got it, Mr. B. Good luck on your date.”
The boys leave and I give myself a final once-over in the hall mirror before I hop into my SUV. Skye said she’d meet me at the restaurant, in lieu of me picking her up.
I arrive fifteen minutes early and take a seat at the bar to wait. I order a scotch on the rocks to help ease the nerves.
Despite the bar being mostly empty, a woman takes the seat beside mine and orders an extra dirty martini. “Hi.”
I tip my scotch toward her in acknowledgement. “Good evening.”