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)
“You were scared,” the drunk guy interrupts, now miraculously upright and sipping a water like he’s been alert the entire time. “Happens to the best of us.”
I blink at him. “Thank you?”
He nods. “Love is terrifying. Makes you do dumb shit.”
Hailey dabs at her eyes again. “He’s so right.”
Crackle.
Hissing technology.
The walkie on the guard’s hip crackles again. Static.
Then: “Jenny, be advised. Babineaux is two minutes out. He’s… um. Running at a full sprint.”
My stomach does an actual somersault.
Running.
He’s running to me! How romantic.
Swoon!
Everyone cheers.
I jump to my feet, smoothing Luca’s jersey down, trying to finger-comb my hair and wondering if it’s possible to look cute while being emotionally feral and lightly damp with anxiety.
The prison door slams open.
Panting. Wild-eyed. Clothes pulled on haphazardly like he pulled his gear off mid-sprint simply because he’s required to return it to the laundress for washing.
Luca is flushed, bleeding from his nose, chest rising and falling like he’s either about to pass out—or propose.
I rise.
The holding cell erupts.
“Oh my gawd,” Hailey breathes, clutching my arm. “He’s even hotter in person.” She fans herself with an empty granola wrapper.
The security guard tries—and fails—to keep a straight face as Luca storms up to the bars like a man on a mission.
“I’m so sorry but can I just say—I’m your biggest fan,” she gushes, smoothing her hands down the front of her beige uniform to look professional while gushing. “My nephew made me memorize your stats. And that goal you scored in Chicago? I cried. Like, actually cried.”
Luca blinks at the beaming officer, clearly not expecting to be emotionally tackled by a stadium employee while bleeding from the face.
“Uh—thank you?” He was clearly not expecting accolades in the stadium prison. “Thanks!”
The drunk guy in the corner hiccups. “Is it weird if I ask for a selfie?”
“Yes!” we all say in unison.
The guard sighs, dreamily. “You’re so committed. Running all the way down here in skates like it’s a Nicholas Sparks film.”
I mean.
Not really?
“Can I remind you all that the reason he’s here is because I made an ass of myself in front of the entire stadium full of people?” I hate to point this out, but I’m trying to keep everyone on task.
“Can I remind you that before you made an ass of yourself, I was making an ass out of myself? I played like shit.”
Hmm. He has a point.
I tilt my head at him. “Are you saying your terrible performance was my fault?”
He scoffs. “I’m saying you’re a monster who lives rent-free in my head and it’s impossible to skate when all I can think about is whether or not you hate me.”
Hailey lets out an audible sob.
Mascot fighter clutches his chest like he’s having heart palpitations, entering the conversation. “Bro.”
The guard sighs again, this time misty-eyed. “You two are, like… my new Roman Empire.”
“She hijacked an entire stadium event and screamed ‘I love you’ in front of twenty thousand people like it was Hockey: The Musical.”
“Aww.” I bask under his praise. “Thanks for the compliment, babe.”
Hailey clutches her chest and whispers, “Why is this so sexy?”
“I want them to fight forever,” the drunk whispers back.
“Nova.” Luca leans in until we’re nose to nose, the bars the only thing between us. “I came here to kiss you.”
I step up to the bars, grabbing on to them. “I can’t kiss you through these.”
His brows go up. “Oh? I think you’re going to have to.”
I look at the security guard for help.
She shrugs, on Luca’s side.
“Come on,” he teases me on freedom’s side, lowering his voice. “One kiss. Then I’ll figure out how to get you out of here before someone puts this on TikTok.”
I groan, then grip the bars tighter and stretch up on my toes.
His hand comes through the bars, palm warm and steady against the back of my neck.
And then he kisses me.
Slow. Certain. A little showy.
The whole cell lets out a collective gasp like they’re watching the end of a telenovela.
“Best. Game. Ever,” Hailey singsongs. “Seriously one of the highlights of prison.”
When we break apart, I’m slightly breathless and extremely aware that I just made out with my boyfriend through correctional infrastructure while wearing his name on my back.
“I hate how hot that was,” I whisper.
“You’re welcome,” he says, smug.
And that’s when the door behind him swings open and Gio appears; takes one long look at us—me gripping bars, Luca’s hand still cupping my jaw, an entire peanut gallery drooling behind me—and sighs, long and hard.
“Why is my sister still behind bars?”
The security guard raises her hands up. “Sir. Can I just say, I’m a huge fan? My nephew made me memorize all your stats and I—”
“Hey!” Luca cuts in, prickly. “Get your own fan club. This one’s taken.”
I smirk, resting my cheek against the bars. “Aw. Look at you getting territorial. It’s almost romantic.”