Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 102607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Family comes first. Don’t date my brother’s teammates. Of course I went and broke both… It started with a little banter on a dating app. A teeny, tiny Flirty messages with Luca Babineaux, the sweet, charming—and stupidly attractive forward on the Houston Baddies—who makes sweat and bruises look so f’ing hot. One spark turns into a secret first date. A few kisses become way more.
Now I’m tangled in a full-blown secret romance and every time Gio walks into the room, I have a full-blown anxiety attack.
Dating in secret? Thrilling. Lying to my brother? Exhausting. Falling for Luca Babineaux obviously wasn’t part of the game plan. It never is, is it? He wants to go public with our relationship. I’d rather not.
Now I have to decide what matters keeping my promises to my dumb, overprotective brother...or choose myself for once.
All’s fair in love and hockey. Right?
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
prologue
Nova
I’m not being dramatic when I say I’ve never been so upset a person left me in all my life.
Fine. I know he hasn’t left me, left me—he’s literally moving into a house in the suburbs outside of the city—but still. Nearly the same thing…
It’s depressing knowing my brother, Gio, is no longer living three floors above me; I can no longer surprise him with visits, can’t steal food from his fridge, can't interrupt him and his girlfriend in any tender moments. He’s been my built-in safety net, my loud, annoying, overprotective safety net.
And now he’s gone.
Packed up his things, kissed me on the forehead, and drove off to suburbia with his very pregnant girlfriend.
And call it habit—call it codependency, call it whatever you want—but it feels like I’m losing my partner in crime.
Partner in crime? Ugh. I hate when people say that, especially men on dating apps. Ha ha, looking for my partner in crime! No, Chad, you’re looking for someone to split your Netflix subscription and swipe their ex’s password for Hulu.
With a miserable groan, I throw myself onto the couch, weight of my sudden loneliness hitting me square in the chest.
“You get it, don’t you, Gio?” I ask, scratching the dog behind his weird ears. Yes, the dog has the same name as my brother–it’s a long story. He belongs to Austin, my brother’s girlfriend and he’s glaring at me, letting out a dramatic sigh as if to say, Can you keep it down, lady? I’m trying to nap.
Jeez. I thought babysitting him would be fun, but he’s been nothing but salty.
He probably feels abandoned too, though they’re coming to pick him up on Monday. They wanted the weekend to get moved in and didn’t want the dog to feel out of sorts with movers going in and out.
“Glad someone’s thriving,” I mutter, pulling out my phone and opening the dating apps.
When your brother moves out and your couch buddy is a dog that resents you for being a shitty dog sitter, there’s no better time for emotional self-sabotage.
Let the games begin!
The first guy? Shirtless mirror selfie.
Swipe left.
The second guy? Holding a fish.
“Why is it always a fish? Are they trying to prove they can provide sustenance in a post-apocalyptic world?”
Swipe left.
The third? Another traveler, every photo in a different exotic location, including Machu Picchu and the Canary Islands.
“Sir, I can’t even afford a latte right now.”
Swipe left.
“Little dude, why are men like this?” I ask the dog, turning the phone toward him. He squints at the screen unimpressed and sniffs the air. “Want to move in with me permanently? Wouldn’t that be fun? Huh?”
I go to give him more pets, but he lets out a soft sneeze and hops off the couch—clearly over my pity party. Gio trots to the other end of the room, his bald stick legs barely making a sound, before flopping onto his blanket.
“Never mind. I take that back.” I didn’t need a dog’s support to have my feelings validated anyway.
I glance back at my phone, debating whether to swipe on another profile or just delete the app altogether.
Curiosity wins out and I continue scrolling; mindlessly, thumb hovering over a man’s profile named Blake. Five years older, well-dressed, and posing with a golden retriever in front of a hiking trail.
“Hmm,” I mumble, narrowing my eyes at the screen. “Are you really outdoorsy, Blake—or did you borrow your cousin’s dog for the photo?”
I tap on his bio.
It goes on and on, blah blah blah, “lover of coffee, live music, and spontaneous road trips.”
Okay, Blake.
A little generic, but nothing offensive. No shirtless selfies, no fish photos—already an improvement!
I glance over at Gio, who is now snoring softly on his blanket.
“What do you think?” I say to no one. “Swipe right or no?”
The dog’s ears don’t twitch.
“Fine. Swipe left,” I say, swiping past Blake and moving on to the next profile.
It’s a guy holding a sword. Not, like, a fencing sword—an actual sword. In his living room.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, swiping left so fast I nearly drop my phone.
The next guy is a little better: a cute smile, some pictures with friends, and no immediate red flags.
The bio? Looking for my queen. Must love adventure and tacos.
I groan. “Must love tacos? What does that mean? Everyone loves tacos, Kevin. You’re not special!”
Left.
My thumb freezes over the next profile, though, because the guy looks… familiar? No, not familiar. He looks exactly like my childhood dentist. Same slightly unnerving smile, same weirdly perfect hair, but grayer than the last time I had a cavity, which was over ten years ago.
“Nope,” I say aloud. “You are a creep!”
I flop back on the couch, staring at the ceiling as Gio lets out a tiny snort in his sleep.
“This is it,” I tell him. “This is my life now. Me, you, and a never-ending stream of weirdos on the internet.”